The Morning After
by Jazelle1996
Summary: AUG 14THxxxx NOW COMPLETE...........This is what House goes through after his visit from a former patient who shot him. This was intended to be a short one, but since we have two months of no House MD, what the heck!
1. Chapter 1

-1THIS IS SOMEWHAT A SPOILER FOR THE FINALE OF SEASON 2...just a warning.

I want to thank AtreidesHeir for realizing my punctuations have been poor, so I hope I meet with his satisfaction.

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**CHAPTER ONE - Coming Out of the Dark**

There's a steady rhythm coming from somewhere…

BEEP…BEEP…BEEP…

'_Sounds like a heartbeat.'_

A pounding from within, at any moment there might be an explosion.

DUNNDUNN…DUNNDUNN…

There is silence all around, just the sounds of…what?

No pain; there's no pain.

'_Waiting…waiting for it.'_

Spinning, thoughts are foggy…

'_Face feels numb…ears ringing, loud…'_

A gurgle resonates within the room, muffled by something.

'_There it is…the pain…in the…no, not the leg…swallow…can't…'_

'_Move your fingers…are you alive? Can't be hell, just came from there. Toes? Are the toes working? God, my head hurts.'_

'_Tired, so damned tired. Sleep…just need sleeeee.'_

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Dr. Lisa Cuddy sits in her office and stares at the clock. There's no sun streaming in her window from the cheeriness of a bright day, only darkness. She hasn't bothered turning on the lamp, no need to; there's no reason to be bright and joyful.

'_Almost 12 hours si…when is he going to come around?'_

Her thoughts drift back to the clock, which reads 11:13 pm. She takes off her reading glasses and pinches the corners of her eyes, at the bridge of her nose, with her thumb and middle finger.

"Cuddy?" A voice suddenly screams at her. She jumps in her chair, which forces the chair to skid back a bit.

"Wilson," she says, finally relaxing and leans forward, her elbows on her desk, her chin in her right hand. "Why are you still here?"

He sits in the chair across from her desk. "Can't go…"

She nods her head in complete understanding. "Have you eaten?"

He shakes his head, not looking at her but at the back of her desk. "Not since breakfast."

"Me, either. Skadoodles is open 24 hours. Want to go get a bite?" She asks.

"No," he simply says.

"We've got to eat, James."

"Not hungry."

She sighs and sits back in the chair. "James, I know you're worried, we both…_all_ are," she stops talking and sighs again.

"You're not going home tonight, are you?" She asks him. He doesn't answer, but she already knows the answer. She stands, walks to her sideboard in the corner of her room by the door, opens it, reaches in for something and walks back to Wilson. She hands him a blanket. "Here."

He looks up at her and her heart breaks. From the corner of his eye a tear falls, runs down the outside of his cheek and rolls to his chin. With the blanket in her left hand she reaches out with her right and affectionately and caringly wipes the tear from his chin.

"He is an ass, Cuddy, but he's our ass. That bullet…knicking his kidney, which was already damage from the morphine…" he stops talking and looks away, almost ashamed to be crying.

"James, come home with me," she tells him. He shoots her a look of surprise. She can't help but crack a smile.

"Shut up, House," she says, making Wilson also crack a smile. "I've got a spare bedroom, you know that."

"I don't know…"

Cuddy throws the blanket on her desk, grabs her duffle bag and stands next to Wilson, waiting for him to stand. When he doesn't, she forcefully grabs his elbow and pulls him up. He reluctantly stands to his feet.

They walk side by side toward the door, she reaches to push it open when Nurse Lucia meets them and screams, "Dr. Cuddy! It's Dr. House!"

Cuddy feels the pit of her stomach drop to the floor as she glances at Wilson. A split second later, the two doctors are racing down the hall toward House's room.

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To be Continued………Any thoughts are always welcome


	2. Elvis Has Left the Building

-1THANKS TO THOSE THAT LEFT REVIEWS. It really makes my day to get email. :o)

And thanks to AtredesHeir for beta'ing me!He makes it perfecto!

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**CHAPTER TWO - Elvis Has Left the Building**

Dr. Allison Cameron sits on her couch in her black and red flannel pajama bottoms and white tank top, hugging a pillow and staring at her reflection in the black T.V. She hasn't touched her hair since her shower earlier that morning and without even reaching back, she knows that it is a mess. But she doesn't care, doesn't care at all.

Neither Chase nor Foreman have been there to comfort her and that just dampens her spirits even more. She reaches for the Vodka sitting on the table and pours some into her glass then throws herself back on the couch and stares at the bottle.

'_Half empty. That's what it is. Half empty. Just like me.'_ She thinks as she downs the full shot in one gulp.

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Back at PPTH, Cuddy and Wilson enter House's room. They find that there is only one other nurse checking the stats on the monitor and it is relatively quiet in the room. They'd expected a crew of doctors and nurses trying to revive him, but there is no one.

"What's going on?" Cuddy demands without even looking at House.

"Didn't Lucia tell you?" the attending nurse asks.

"I'mmm preggers." came a gravely, deep-throated voice from the bed. Wilson's eyes fly open as he takes a few more steps closer to the bed.

"House?" Wilson whispers, not quite sure whether he is actually awake or if it is his own wishful thinking.

"Whaaa…" House starts to mutter, but Cuddy interrupts him.

"Save your strength, House. You're going to need it."

"Howww baaad?" he asks as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, his face grimacing from the pain in his side.

"The nurse just took out your breathing tube because you finally started breathing on your own…" Wilson starts.

"How baad?" House repeats.

"You were brought into the E.R. in critical condition," Cuddy gulps as she tries to find the courage to tell him. "You lost a lot of blood and…" her voice trails off as it starts to crack from the memory of seeing him with blood gushing out of his neck and stomach.

Wilson finishes for her. "You were in surgery for three hours…." House's continuing expression of pain forces Wilson to stop talking for a second, but then he continues. "They…removed the bullet from your stomach, and found and repaired the tear in your jugular vein from the second passing bullet. The bullet didn't penetrate but just another inch and it would have." He stops again for a moment to let House register the information, and for a second thinks he has fallen asleep.

"Whhheressstheguythatsh…" House mutters.

"With the amount of blood that you lost, you became anemic, but it's back to normal now." Cuddy finishes, ignoring his last question.

"House, you need rest," Wilson says, placing his hand on House's left shoulder, but he ignores him.

"Kettttamin…" House says with his eyes open, looking at Cuddy. She slowly nods her head and she swore to herself she saw the corner of his lip furl up just a little into a smile.

"Thaannnsss…" he says groggily as his head slowly drifts to the left, quickly falling back to asleep.

"Let me know if his condition changes," Cuddy says to the nurse as they walk out into the hall.

They walk in silence down the hall to the elevators. Neither one of them speaks, neither one has to. They are both thankful, relieved and suddenly extremely tired. The elevator door opens and they walk out into the lobby.

"My offer still stands," Cuddy tells Wilson right before he turns to walk toward the exit door.

"No, thanks. I think I'm going to go to his place for the night. Besides, someone has to check on Steve. I think I need to feed him a snake or something."

"I believe it's the other way around," She says with a smile, knowing he's going to be fine since he cracked the joke.

"I'll be here bright and early," Wilson says and walks out of the hospital.

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Cameron is having a strange dream: her cat (well, _a_ cat since she never owned one) gave birth to a litter of about eight, but the kittens weren't kittens, they were the shape and size of a lima bean and a sheer color, almost see through. She could barely detect the little eyes inside the pod and put them in a clear plastic container, filled to the brim with water.

Afterwards she waited, and waited, for them to mature before she transferred them back to another container where they'd evolve into real kittens. But a few of them died and she was sad, but then realized that there were _more_ pods and got into panic mode.

The next thing she knew she was in the laundry room with two men, cleaning up 'the kitchen' (yes, the kitchen was in the laundry room but don't ask me why) because the landlord was coming by to inspect it to return the deposit on the house she was renting, which was basically a run down shack.

Then she had to decide which kitten she wanted to keep and was debating between the little runt of the group, who barely survived its' escape from the pod, and a little rambunctious one that kept the three men chasing after it…and then the phone rang…and rang…and rang…

Cameron is jolted awake by the phone ringing next to her ear and groggily reaches for it, not bothering to open her eyes.

"Hellll…" She mumbles then clears her throat and repeats the 'hello.'

"Cameron, it's Wilson. House woke up about an hour ago."

She is instantly awake at the good news and sits up, placing her hand on her forehead, because even though her body stops, her head wants to keep going.

"Is he alright?"

"Yeah, but he's pregnant," Wilson says, waiting for a laugh from her. When it doesn't come he says, "Sorry. He's fine, Allison. I just thought you'd want to know."

"Yeah, yes, oh, thank God," she says relieved. "When are his parents flying in?"

"I think John and Blythe are arriving at 6:30 tomor…uh, this morning," he tells her. "They never came in when he had the infarction. I think Blythe was a little regretful."

"Ok. Thanks for calling, Wilson," she says looking at the watch on her wrist. She squints down at the tiny dial and sees that it is 1:15 a.m. and cringes. "Get some sleep. I'll see you later."

She hangs up the phone and smiles, knowing he is okay. Relieved he made it, but not quite sure about what lay ahead…for him? Or, for her?

Then she remembers the dream and continues to sit on the couch. "I had to decide between the rambunctious one and the runt of the litter? What the _hell _does that mean?" She says to herself out loud, but knowing exactly what it meant.

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To be continued


	3. Be Careful What You Ask For

THIS IS TO THOSE THAT REQUESTED A HOUSE/CUDDY THEME…so the Chapter title is dedicated to you all. :o)

**CHAPTER THREE – Be Careful What You Ask For**

Cuddy sits in the chair beside House's bed and stares at him; she has been staring at him for three hours now. She watches his chest rise and fall in rhythm that seems to relax her. She listens for his breath and the occasional snore he might give to assure her he's indeed breathing. Her eyes wander over every inch of his face, as if it has to pass an inspection – every line, every crease, the slight changes in the color of his complexion, the little dent on the right side of his nose when it was broken in LaCrosse in high school, the way the tip of his nose flairs when he breathes, even the corners of his mouth.

She has never been more grateful for anything in her life before this. There are so many emotions going through her head at this moment she can barely even think straight anymore. She forces her eyes to focus on his face to stay awake, but her eyelids feel heavier and heavier and feel terribly dry.

"…booger onnn my chinnn?" House mumbles groggily, staring right at Cuddy. She jumps from the sudden noise and takes a moment to realize he is indeed talking to her. She quickly stands and approaches the side of the bed wearing a warm, yet relieved smile.

"No, but you spilled spaghetti sauce on your … God, I can't even come up with a good joke. How are you feeling, Greg?" she asks, placing her hand on his then gives it a light squeeze.

"Grggg? Since when do you call me Greg?" he slurs as he closes his eyes half way and the right side of his mouth curls in a half smile.

"Since you almost bled to death," she answers, stepping closer and pressing her body against the railing of the bed. She can't help but grin when his eyes went directly to her blouse pressed tightly against the railing.

"I knew I wouldn't," he groaned in a deep, raspy voice.

"You were lucky."

"I'm always lucky. 'Cept at the races," he laughs then suddenly stops and grabs his side, his face grimacing.

"Is it bad? Do you need something for the pain?" she asks concerned.

He shakes his head and looks her straight in the eyes for the first time. "It doesn't re…Cuddy, you look like hell," he says, stopping himself when he sees how red and swollen her eyes are. For a moment he's speechless and they stare at each other. She nervously shuffles her weight from one foot to the other.

"Thanks. It's a sleep deprivation experiment I'm undertaking. So far I'm failing," she laughs but then her words abruptly escape her.

"You gave me the Ketamin, right?" he asks. She doesn't answer but only nods her head. "Did it work?"

"You know we wo…" she stops mid sentence when her legs give out on her and she grabs the railing to keep from falling on her butt.

"Cuddy, go home," he says. She shakes her head but remains quiet. "You need sleep," he tells her.

"I'll leave when the crew comes in a few hours."

"Oh, what time is it?" Cuddy looks at her watch and her eyebrows rise.

"3:30," she answers, turning to walk to the chair. "I'm just going to sit right back on the chair and sleep here."

"No, Cuddy," he corrects her. She turns back around and looks at him in confusion. "There's room on here for the both of us," he tells her rather seriously. His eyes blink slowly a few times, as if just talking about sleep was making him drowsier. "Come on. We're going to be sharing more than a bed in a couple of months if you still want to get pregnant."

Cuddy stands by the chair, places her hands on her hips and smiles. "It won't work that way," she says as she walks back toward the bed. "If you try anything I'm going to pull your catheter out quicker than you can say MonoSodiumGlutamate," she tells him seriously, but then laughs.

After she situates herself on the bed next to him her muscles quickly relax and she feels like she is melting into the mattress. They share the same pillow and within minutes her head slowly rolls onto House's left shoulder, her left hand flops on the left side of his chest. He feels her hair brush against his chin and it feels funny, really strange, but not unfamiliar.

He lifts his right hand to his chin and rubs with the back of his fingers, feeling baby smooth skin that hasn't been completely shaven off in almost five years. He brings his hand to the other side and does the same. He curses to himself when he realizes they've shaved his beard.

"I'm glad you're okay," she says, barely understandable but he knew what she said.

"I'm glad you're here," he whispers, but she has already fallen asleep, hard. A smile crosses his lips and seconds later he, too, is asleep.

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A short while later, around 6:30am, Cameron arrives at the hospital in a fairly good mood knowing that her boss is out of the woods and all is well in Snarkville. But her mood is about to change into a nightmare for her in a dramatic way.

She goes straight to House's room to see how he is and to check on his vitals when she turns the corner and sees inside his room. Her mouth drops and she can only stand there, staring. She convinces herself she _has_ lost her mind from the amount of alcohol she'd had the night before.

There, lying beside House with her left arm resting on his chest, her head cradled in the crook of his left arm (his left hand curled around her shoulder) and his head nestled on top of hers, is Dr. Lisa Cuddy.

Out of no where there's a loud C-R-A-S-H and the sound of glass breaking, which seems to snap Cameron out of her 'shock induced trance' and her eyes focus from House to the glass outside his room.

"Dr. Cameron! What are you DOING?" a nurse asks as she approaches her. "There's glass all over the place!" The nurse walks back over to the reception desk and pages maintenance for a clean up then walks back to Cameron.

"Are you okay?" she asks Cameron, who still hasn't taken her eyes off of House's room. She sees movement behind the shattered glass, realizing it's Cuddy getting out of his bed. A look of horror at what she's done crosses her face and she walks, almost runs, down the hall to the conference room, ignoring Cuddy telling her to stop.

She unlocks the conference room door, turns the light on and throws her bag on the table. She walks to the coffee machine, places the right amount of coffee in the filter, hits 'brew' and walks away. A few seconds later she hears a sizzling and crackling sound come from the machine. She quickly races back and places the pot on the burner, which she's forgotten to do, and curses out loud.

As she's wiping clean the machine and countertop Chase and Foreman come through the door, in an obvious better mood than she is.

"Good morning, Dr. Allison!" Foreman chirps and Cameron feels like throwing the pot at him. _'Why stop now? I'm on a roll!'_ she thinks to herself but just gives him a dirty look and turns her back on the two.

"So, is House bouncing up and down the halls this morning?" Foreman asks but is cut short when Cuddy walks in carrying a heavy set of keys.

"I'm glad you three came in early. There is a lot we have to go over, under the circumstances," she says then yawns. "Did you just make that coffee, Cameron?" she asks hopefully as she heads toward it.

"Uh, no, Dr. Cuddy, I made it last week. I'm doing a research project on moldy genes," Cameron answers as she turns to face Cuddy straight on. "You're old, how moldy are _your_ genes?"

"CAMERON!" Chase shouts, appalled that Cameron actually said that to her boss. But what makes him shut up is the look Cameron gives _him_. He knows better than to touch that one.

"Foreman, Chase, can us ladies have a second alone?" Cuddy asks as both men immediately stand and practically run out of the conference room, heel to toe.

Cuddy stands in front of Cameron, who has her hands defiantly on her hips and a smug look on her face. "Well, Allison, I didn't think you had it in you," she says as she places Cameron's keys on the table. Cameron doesn't answer.

'_Ok, Lisa…be careful with this…don't say anything stupid…she is the last person that needs to know Greg offered to father my child and I accepted it.'_


	4. And Truth Shall Prevail

**THANKS TO EVERYONE FOR YOUR WONDERFUL COMMENTS AND REVIEWS. I can't say enough how much they are appreciated. Here is more:**

**CHAPTER FOUR – And Truth Shall Prevail**

Wilson has just walked into the living room after taking his shower and takes the blanket and pillow into House's bedroom. He was used to sleeping on the couch and for some reason when he thought of sleeping in his bed he couldn't do it, but he never tried to understand why.

The door bell chimes so he places the blanket and pillow neatly on the bed and leaves for the door. When he heard the chimes he instantly gets a jittery stomach; not at seeing John and Blythe but having to explain House's condition and why Moriarty shot him. But hopefully they wouldn't ask him right away and they'd go directly to the hospital.

He takes a deep breath and opens the door, giving a cheerful 'hello' before he even looks at them.

"Hi, James," Blythe says as she steps into the apartment, giving him a huge hug.

"Hello, John," Wilson says, giving him a firm handshake. "Come in. Let me get those for you," he says as he takes their luggage and carries them into House's bedroom. "Have a seat. I'm sure you are both tired. I've got muffins and bagels if you'd like before we head to the hospital," he says as he reenters the room.

"Actually, I've got a couple of questions," John says, ignoring the sigh from his wife.

"I'd like to go see him now, James, if that's alright," Blythe says, still standing but then looks at John, who's already taken a seat on the couch.

Blythe sits down next to her husband and Wilson notices how tired (and old) she looks. "Let me get coffee and you both should have something to eat. I know how nasty that airplane food can be," he says as he walks to the kitchen.

As he gets the food out and places them on the tray he hears whispers coming from the living room but can't make out what they're saying. He's going through in his mind what he's going to tell them then walks into the room, places the tray on the table and pours their coffee. He then sits across from them sitting on the couch.

"James, what happened to Greg?" John asks bluntly, and Wilson notices he's holding Blythe's hand.

"Hou…Greg had a patient a few years back, Jason Moriarty. The disease he contracted was only transmittable through sex and told his wife about the affair he'd had. She committed suicide and Moriarty blamed Greg for it. So, he took it into his own hands.

"After he shot him in the stomach he aimed for his neck, you know the rest. He lost a lot of blood, and had him at gunpoint for 15 minutes so he would bleed to death," he stops talking because Blythe let out a little gasp at those last few words.

"Was he conscious?" she asks. Wilson shakes his head.

"After the second shot he passed out."

"Was he alone?" John asks as he sips his coffee, nibbling on a muffin.

"No, Drs. Cameron, Chase and Foreman were in the room but Moriarty wouldn't let them near Greg. The two security men came after the first shot was heard and they had a standoff for that 15 minutes."

"So, you weren't with him?" Blythe asks quietly. Wilson shakes his head again.

"I heard the gunshot through – our offices are next to each other – the wall and watched the whole thing from the hallway. An officer went through my office to the balcony and took him down through the door."

"Why didn't he bleed to death? Fifteen minutes? He should have," John says, but Wilson took no offense or coldness from his statement.

"The bullet penetrated the jugular vein, only slightly tearing the vein, but it had gradually expanded. The body goes through a kind of shock after that kind of injury and with the heart pumping faster it forced the tear to become wider."

"What about his stomach?" Blythe asks.

Wilson hesitates. This is what was the most difficult to explain to any parent. "The bullet entered the spleen and rested in the small intestine. The spleen had to be removed but they noticed there was prior damage to the small intestine. The final outcome is hard to determine at the moment."

"But what caused the damage?" Blythe asks just as Wilson's cell phone rings and he answers it. He is temporarily relieved at the interruption because there was no way in hell he was going to be the one to tell them, 'because your only child is addicted to Vicodin and Morphine.'

Wilson closes the flap to the phone and smiles at them. "That was Dr. Chase. He said Greg is awake," Wilson tells them as he stands. "Here is his apartment key to use when you come back here. My car is parked outside. You can follow me," Wilson tells them as he escorts them to the door.

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For the past several minutes Cameron and Cuddy have been standing face to face, hunter to prey. Slowly and slightly detected by Cuddy, Cameron's eyes lose their hateful glare but she is still on guard. This is what Cuddy has been waiting for.

"Allison, I don't know what you think you saw back there but you are so mistaken," Cuddy starts, hoping to slowly diffuse the situation. "We are all tense about House right now and he doesn't need broken shards of glass being shot at him by a jealous little girl." The 'girl' had a very sadistic tone to it, as if Cuddy was throwing Cameron's snide comment right back at her.

Cameron directs her eyes away from Cuddy's and she crosses her arms, her shoulders sinking down. Cuddy knows she has just hit a nerve and says, "Sit down. I want to explain something." Cameron doesn't budge. "Ok, well, I'm going to get some coffee and sit down, I suggest you do the same," Cuddy tells her.

A moment later she brings her coffee and sits at the table but Cameron refuses to do the same and remains standing.

"I heard you have feelings for him," Cuddy says as Cameron's eyes quickly divert to look fiercely down on her. "Oh, every one knows it. I even tried to convince him to take you out." Cameron's eyes widened at that confession.

"Greg and I have decided to keep our past private, but I will share something with you, in confidence." Cameron's face changes from surprise to confusion. "We have known each other for over 20 years. We know each other well, almost too well sometimes, that's why I put up with him, and put him in his place when he needs it," she laughs.

"What the hell does this have to do with…" Cameron starts.

"Deep down, I love him. And I know he loves me. But we are _not_ in love with each other, never have been. What you saw are two friends that needed each other at the mo…" Cuddy chokes on her words at what she's just heard herself say. Cameron unfolds her arms and pulls the chair out, sitting in it rather hard.

"I had a divorce years ago, a bad one. I told myself then I'd never be in another one. Greg's been there for me, and I owe him."

"But you were there for him when he had his infarction," Cameron states.

"No, not really, he had Stacy then. And Wilson was…he was the one that helped him through the pain of the breakup. It was about a year before he was able to come back to me, the way we were before she met him."

"I just…just want to help him," Cameron says.

Cuddy contemplates her words and leans forward in the chair. "Allison, that man won't let anyone help him. Who knows? Maybe what's happened to him now will make him come around. But only _he_ knows when he's ready for that."

They sit staring at each other quietly until the silence is broken by the door swinging open and Wilson walks in with House's parents behind him. Both the women look at them.

"This is John and Blythe, Greg's parents," Wilson tells them.

"Oh, Mr., Mrs. House. It's good to see you." Cuddy says as she stands and shakes their hands while Cameron remains seated.

"How is he, Cuddy? Foreman called and said he's awake," Wilson asks.

"He'd just woken up when I left him earlier."

"Can we see him, please?" Blythe asks.

"Of course. I'll tak…" Cuddy interrupts herself and turns to Cameron. "Allison, can you take them to see him? I've got papers to catch up on."

Cameron mulls it over and nods her head as she stands. "Sure. This way."

As the three walk out the door, Cuddy tells Wilson, "You need to talk to her." Wilson stares back at her perplexed.

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House is lying in bed with his eyes closed, awake, but barely. The pain is still anesthetized from the Ketamin and he finds himself rather relaxed, except for wondering why Cameron threw her keys through the glass panel.

"Greg, honey, it's mom and dad," Blythe says as she leans in and kisses his forehead lovingly. Cameron quietly steps out of the room but stands around the corner, watching House with his parents.

"Wow, he's gotten rid of his beard. _Now_ he looks like a man," John says and Blythe gives him a dirty look.

'_Oh, man! Not now! Just pretend you're asleep, House, pretend you're asleep.'_


	5. A Mother Always Knows

-1**CHAPTER FIVE - A Mother Always Knows**

After Cameron stands in the corner watching House with his parents for a few minutes, she grudgingly heads back to the conference room. She walks up to the door and hears a voice coming from Wilson's office and, deciding she doesn't want to be alone, heads to his office. She approaches the door and sees he is on the phone, turns and is about to walk away when he calls after her. She turns back around, walks through the door but stands against the wall and waits for him to get off the phone. He says his goodbyes, hangs up the phone and waves to her to sit down.

"That was just my lawyer. Divorce stuff. Real fun. Hey, are you okay, Allison? You look a little…peaked," he says. She hesitates a moment thinking of the right words.

"I guess."

"Did you sleep ok? I mean, after I called you?"

She shakes her head. "I had a fight with a vodka bottle."

"Ah, and it won," he asks.

She smiles awkwardly and says, "Yeah."

"He's going to be okay, you know."

"Yeah, I know."

"What are you apprehensive about? You aren't really acting right."

"It's just…I don't know." She takes a deep breath and tells him about the dream she'd had the night before. "So, what do you think the meaning is of chasing after the rambunctious one and the runt?"

Wilson lets out a laugh but then stifles it rather quickly when he sees her expression change. "You know what I think? I think it's your subconscious telling you something."

"No, _really_?" she says sarcastically.

"Have you and Chase been tog…uh, dated since that first time?" he asks, trying to be delicate but doesn't succeed.

"Wow, Wilson, I never took you for the type of person to be so blunt. "

"I think House has rubbed a little assertiveness on me," he says with a laugh. "What I think , and this is only my opinion, is that your subconscious is trying to tell you to choose."

"Choose? Choose what?" she asks exasperatingly.

"Cam…Allison, come on. I know you're not stupid."

"Oh, thanks for your vote of confidence."

"What I'm trying to say is that maybe you need to make a decision between House and Chase but you aren't ready to face it, yet." He sighs, thankful he's finally said it.

She looks at him questionably and is silent for a few moments. "Oh, please. What Chase and I did was something I'm not happy about but it happened. Both he and Foreman think they know how I feel but they don't. You and I are both so similar. We are needy. I hated to admit that but House was right. And it's not that I want to _change_ him but more like I…I just want to be there for him."

"Look, you have _no idea _what you'd be getting yourself into. Chase is your age, and I think you two would make a…"

"Oh! Don't even say it! He is _such_ a boy. He follows House around like a puppy dog and…"

Wilson laughs under his breath and says, "Allison! House is still a boy himself. You and Chase…"

"Would you STOP with the 'you and Chase!' I have NO interest in him."

"Ok, ok. Sorry. Didn't mean to hit your buttons. But he does like you, you know."

What has started as an honest statement from Wilson has now escalated to a full blown war. "How in the hell do you know that? Oh, my god! He talked to you, didn't he!"

"No," he squeaks then clears his throat. "Well, yes. But it's only because you've sparked something in him that he was confused about. I mean, you turn him down for drinks once and then attack him the next. Any man would be baffled."

"I don't believe this!" she cries out, brushing her hair away from her forehead. She instantly gets into a defensive mode. "He TOLD you? At least House figured it out on his own."

"Look, Allison, calm down…"

"Don't tell ME to calm down! I'm gonna kick his as…" she says as she stands up.

"Please don't tell him I…" he starts to say.

"No, no, I won't," she says and walks out of his office.

For some strange reason, Wilson doesn't quite believe her.

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Back in House's hospital room he is still pretending to be asleep.

"Why don't you go get us some coffee?" Blythe asks.

"Ok, fine. How do I find the cafeteria?" he asks rather naively.

"Ask the nurse, John," she says then sighs.

"Ok, ok." John turns and walks out of the room. Blythe turns her attention back to her son.

"Greg, I know you're awake," she says as she leans against the railing and brushes his cheek with her hand.

He slowly opens his right eye halfway and looks at her and gives her a small smile. "Hi, Mom," he says weakly.

"Hi, son. How are you feeling?"

He groans under his breath as he tries to move his neck. "I'm not sure yet."

"No, no, don't move your neck. Do you want some water?" He shakes his head.

"Thanks, Mom."

"For what?" she asks.

"Getting him to leave."

"I know things are tense between you two and you don't need to be under any stress. I'll take care of him for you, dear," she says as she gives him a smile. "Wilson gave us the key to your apartment and we'll be staying there until you are home."

"No, wait, my apartment?" He nods his head then suddenly panic sets in.

He left the tool box with the morphine and syringes sitting on his dresser the night before!


	6. The Chase Begins

-1**CHAPTER SIX- The Chase Begins**

Cameron storms into the conference room after talking with Wilson, pushing in the door so hard the glass wall vibrates. Chase jumps in his seat but Foreman merely looks up at from a patient's folder. She walks over to the desk and plops heavily in the chair, turning it around to face the window, away from her two coworkers. They just shrug their shoulders as they look at each other but they knew she was angry; they've heard her raised voice from Wilson's office a few minutes earlier.

"Think she needs to lay off the coffee," Foreman jokes to Chase, trying to lighten the mood and they both snicker.

"Shut up!" Cameron shouts at them. They look at each other perplexed at why she was angry at _them_.

Foreman stands and approaches her, holding his breath. "Cameron, are you okay?"

"Yes!" she snaps, but Foreman knows better to say anything more, mainly because he's never really seen her this upset before, and it _has_ to be something more than House being shot.

Back in House's room…

"Son, I know this isn't a good time to bring this up, but once you are better you and I need to have a talk," Blythe says, adjusting the top sheet covering House.

Instantly he feels sick to his stomach; not from the surgery, bullet wounds or not eating the past almost 24 hours, but from the fact that he knows, _he just knows_, his mom had found the tool box. He nods his head slightly and closes his eyes.

"I'm glad you're ok, Greg. Get some rest. We'll be around today, here in the hospital if you need us, okay? I love you, Tigger."

Again he nods his head, but with a look of "uggh, I hate that nickname" but inwardly smiles because it has been a pet name of hers for him since he was three years old. His eyes remain closed but doesn't say anything. Within seconds he is asleep again and Blythe watches her son as she waits for John to come back with the coffee.

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Almost a half hour passes, and Foreman and Chase have been reviewing the patient's case Foreman has when Cuddy walks into the room.

"Hey, guys. I forgot to tell you what I came in earlier for," she says as she walks to the table, pulls out a chair and sits down. She's noticed Cameron sitting at the desk with her back against them but doesn't say anything to her, knowing she'll be listening anyway.

"I was going to have Dr. Sam Cartwright fill in for House but he got an emergency at home and can't do it. So, until House is back on his feet and fully recovered, Foreman, you will fill in for House."

Foreman's egotistical self instantly plumps up his chest like he's just been crowned the Alpha Male of the hospital. It is soon deflated, however, when a heavy sigh echoes from the corner Cameron is sitting in.

"Cameron, do you have a comment or anything to say?" Cuddy asks with no derogatory or condescending tone of voice.

Cameron whirls the chair around, stands (almost losing her balance) and walks toward the table, standing beside Foreman. "Can I go home?" she asks him. She doesn't ask him because he's now her boss again, but because at the moment Cameron isn't speaking to either Cuddy OR Chase.

Foreman looks at Cuddy but she remains motionless. He looks up at Cameron and asks, "Are you sick?"

She hesitates a moment and says flippantly, "No, I've got a thorn in my side that I need to have removed." As she said that she looked directly at Chase, and he just stares back at her, expressionless.

"Sure, Cameron. I'll call if any new cases come in," he tells her.

"Don't," she says and walks out the door.

She practically runs out of the hospital but when she gets in her car she just sits behind the wheel. The vision of House being shot and seeing him lying on the floor bleeding profusely, the news that Foreman is her boss again ('_oh, won't that be fun' _she thinks to herself) and her feeling betrayed by Chase all run her brain. She feels the tears start to build up and fights them back, unsuccessfully, as they roll down her cheeks.

She is startled by a rap on the car window and jumps. She looks out the window and sees Chase, who's 'cranking his fist' in a motion for her to lower the window. She hesitates a moment then cracks it just a little.

"What do you want?" she snaps. Chase's face changes to one of hurt then it fades as he sees a single tear roll down her left cheek.

"Allison, I'm not going to let you go home like this. Talk to me. What's wrong?" She doesn't answer but looks out through the front window, ignoring him.

"Cameron! If I need to I'll stand behind the car so you can't pull out!" Chase cautions, starting to feel anger rise up in him.

"Fine! I'll run your ass over, then!" she screams at him through more tears that have come. At that challenge, and offer to run the prat over, she starts the engine but hesitates a moment; she's actually waiting for him to stand behind the car.

"I mean it!" he warns.

She puts the car in reverse but doesn't release the brake, which prompts Chase to run behind the car to prevent her from leaving, just as he threatened to do. He sees her look at the rear view mirror and her eyes squint, with a look of hatred he'd never seen in her eyes before, her beautiful eyes nonetheless. He stands about three foot from the bumper and waits to see if she's really going to back up and run him over. Sure enough, a second later he sees the car back up slowly, but he defiantly stays glued to the spot.

"Do it, Cameron! Since you're _so _pissed off it'll make you feel better if you run me down! I promise it will! I've killed a few wombats when I was pissed and let me tell you," he screams as the car comes closer and closer to him. "it was much cheaper than a psychotherapist!"

At that last word the car brakes to a halt and he sighs with relief knowing that she wasn't going to really run him over. He stands his ground waiting to see what she will do next. He looks in the side view mirror and sees her hands clutched on the wheel, leaning forward on the steering wheel and her head on the back of her hands.

And it breaks his heart. He slowly walks to the passenger door and peers in then tapping on it for her to open the door. At first she ignores him but then, without looking at him, unlocks the door and he gets in silently, closing the door as quietly as he can. He doesn't say a word but just sits there staring at her, her upper body convulsing with her sobs. He has no idea what to say to make her feel better, or better yet what to say to make her talk to him about what is wrong.

A few minutes pass and the silence is broken when a 'honk' blares and he turns back to see a car drive by, the driver giving them a dirty look. This prompts him to tell her she should pull the car back up and cut the engine. A second later he hears a deep sniffle and she sits back, puts the car in 'drive' and slowly drives it forward, puts it in 'park' and cuts the engine.

"Allison, are you okay?" he asks her, but doesn't push her to answer when she doesn't.

He reaches his hand out to her shoulder and when his fingers brush against her shirt she shutters, pulling back from his touch. He sits back against the back of the seat and watches her. The tears come harder and faster and he can tell she is on the verge of hyperventilating, but he does nothing.

After about ten minutes and she seems to have calmed down a bit, he is about to start talking to her again when, before he knows it, she's opened her door, gets out and runs toward a small gathering of bushes that separates the building of the hospital.

He curses and chases after her, calling her name and telling her to stop - no, pleading for her to stop.


	7. Never Do A Friend A Favor

-1Thanks everyone for reading and leaving your reviews.

There is something I should point out…..now, when Wilson introduced House's parents to Cuddy and Cameron, Cuddy said, "it's good to meet you." I've gotten some comments from another site and they were curious why Cuddy never met House's parents, especially after 20 years. Well, she hasn't met his parents. True, House and Cuddy have been friends for 20 years but she has NEVER met his parents. Sorry if I confused y'all.

**CHAPTER SEVEN - Never Do A Friend a Favor**

After John brings coffee to his wife they sit and watch their son sleeping peacefully for about an hour. They decide to head back to House's apartment to rest before the return later that afternoon. They walk through the lobby and notice Cuddy sitting behind her desk in her office. They walk through the hospital doors and head to the parking lot. Blythe suddenly stops and turns to her husband.

"Oh, John, I left something in Greg's room. Get the car. I'll only be five minutes." He nods and watches her walk back in then turns to get their rental car.

She walks through the lobby but instead of heading to the elevators to Greg's room she heads straight to Cuddy's office. She taps on the glass door and Cuddy looks up from her papers, waving Blythe in with a smile.

"Hi, Mrs. House. What can I do for you?" Cuddy asks, a little surprised that she's in her office.

"Dr. Cuddy, well, I don't want to mention anything behind John's back, but…" she stops herself for a moment before Cuddy continues.

"Mrs. House, what happened to Hou…Greg…shouldn't have happened at all. I take full responsibility for what happ…"

"No, no, you don't understand. You've known Greg for many years. He's always talked about you. The truth is, I think Greg was just too embarrassed to have you meet his father because of the way he can be sometimes. John has always pestered Greg about why he never married.

"Anyway, I'm really concerned about Greg. He's always been a little…distant but it's gotten worse. We only see him once every few years but do catch up on the phone. Well, he and I do. The past few years I've noticed he's gotten more into his shell and I'm truly concerned about him. I don't see the light in his eyes that I used to. Do you have any idea what's going on with him?"

Cuddy sits behind her desk and leans back in her chair, thinking, quickly, but seriously. She stands and approaches Blythe, who never did sit down.

"Mrs. House, there's something I think it's time you know something about Greg," she says as she leads Blythe to the couch and they both sit down.

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Wilson is still sitting at his desk after Cameron's brusque departure wondering what the whole conversation was about and why she had overreacted as she did. He raises his arms in the air and stretches then tells himself he should maybe check on House.

Just as the door closes behind him his pager goes off and he looks at it, curses then runs to House's room. As he turns the corner there is no activity in the room, just a still House lying on the bed. He briskly walks in and heads toward the bed, seeing that House is awake he relaxes.

"Why in the _hell_ did you page me with an emergency? Are you _insane_ now?" he asks, putting his hands on his hips and glares at his friend.

"Wilson, you need to do me a favor."

"I don't need to do anything, not after that stunt you just pulled," Wilson says angrily.

House sighs and looks at Wilson with pleading eyes. "Mom said you gave her the key and they're staying there."

"Well, yeah, they're your parents. It's not like you're going to be there. Your bike is parked in the garage to keep the bird droppings off of it."

"No, it's not that. I think I left something sitting out that I don't want…" his voices trails off.

"I stayed there last night because I left so late and it's closer than my apartment. I didn't see anything sitting out."

"You didn't see a grey tool box on my dresser?" he asks, starting to sound weak from the excitement he is putting himself through.

Wilson thinks for a minute and says, "no, I don't think so. I slept on the couch. You have hooker cooties in your bed. Why?"

"My parents just left. I woke up after Dad brought Mom coffee. I waited until they left to page you. I need you to get there to hide it. Knowing Dad he'll look through everything I have." House grimaces with pain as he stretches his leg and it pulls at the stitches in his stomach.

"You've got the keys to the bike. They were in the duffle bag with the house key. Take that set. You'll make it there quicker."

"House, there is no way in hell I'm going to ride your bike!" Wilson protests.

"You've got to! God, they can't find it," he says as he turns his head and closes his eyes.

Through the years they've known each other, he has never seen House in this bad a position. Sure, there were pretty bad ones, but this takes the cake. He knew from the tox screen there was morphine in his system, and neither Cuddy nor Wilson gave it to him.

"Fine. But you owe me, owe me BIG."

"Thanks," House mutters as his breathing becomes slower and he drifts off to sleep.

Almost ten minutes later Wilson has just sat on the bike and notices House's parents driving past on the main road outside the parking garage. He quickly turns on the ignition and races out of the parking lot, surprised at just how powerful the bike really is.

It takes him less than 15 minutes to get two blocks away from House's apartment and he's sitting at a red light of a major intersection waiting to turn left. He hears sirens in the background and it takes him a second to ascertain which direction they are coming from. He sees flashing red lights to his left then notices a speeding car leading them.

As the car gets closer to the intersection he sees the speeding car skid a little then the tires grip the road. The driver makes a sudden right turn and again loses control, heading straight for him. Wilson realizes his predicament but he doesn't react quick enough to get out of the way.

The next thing he knows he is launched forward over the handlebars of the bike, flips over onto the hood of the car and then is violently rolled off onto the pavement as the car continues to head down the street. He lands hard and it feels to him as if every bone in his body has just broken.

It sounds to him as if the sirens are right on top of him but then the screeching slowly fades away, as does his sense of what's just happened to him as he sinks into unconsciousness.

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Was Wilson just killed by the speeding car trying to do his best friend a major favor?

Will Cuddy actually tell House's parents about his Vicodin and morphine addictions?

What ever happened to Chase chasing after Cameron?

Well, I'll figure all that out when I start typing again:o)

Check back again real soon.


	8. Curiosity Kills the Cat

**Thanks for the reviews, everyone. I just LUV cliffhangers, don't you? eg**

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**CHAPTER EIGHT – Curiosity Kills the Cat**

Chase and Cameron have been sitting on a grassy area under a tree near the parking lot for a while now without speaking a word to each other. She's been crying hysterically and all he can do is let her. They sit side by side but he is afraid to put his arm around her, although he wants to. Finally he feels the time is right to talk to her, even if she doesn't want to, she's going to listen.

"Allison, do you know why I worked NICU for that short time a while ago?" She doesn't answer, just wipes her runny nose on her lab coat.

"Ok, uh, you are going to have to wash that," he teases, hoping to get some kind of response from her, either good or bad. "Well, it sure wasn't to get away from House," he continues. "Look, after we were together that one time, I got confused," he hesitates a moment to see if there is any reaction. He sighs when there isn't.

"I worked NICU to get away from _you_." At that she finally looks at him, confused, but she at least acknowledges him. "Look, you know I asked you out that one time and you turned me down, I could handle that. But not after we were together I couldn't. I couldn't sleep, lost my appetite, I felt like I was back in high school."

She looks at him and asks, "Why?"

"I just couldn't sleep or anything for thinking..."

"No, I mean why did you work NICU?"

"I told you, to get away from you."

"Well, that makes me feel a lot better."

"I see the way you look at House, bring him coffee, catering to his every need, and then spending the whole day at his side." He gulps hard then says, "And I was jealous."

"Jealous? I don't believe you."

"Well, I was. It practically killed me and I couldn't really face it anymore. That's why I did NICU, to get my thoughts together."

"Did it work?" she asks, looking away from him toward the parking lot.

"No. But I handled it a little better." They sit in silence for a few more minutes. "Cameron, what do you say about me taking you out?"

Cameron is speechless and her mind is blank, but she jumps a bit when her cell phone rings and a second later Chase's goes off.

"Oh, God, it's Wilson," Cameron says after she reads the message then stands.

She looks down at Chase who just gets done reading his message and looks up at Cameron. She reaches down with her hand to him and he takes it. She pulls him up and they stand face to face for a second before racing off to the E.R.

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Chase and Cameron meet the paramedics at the ER entrance just as they take the gurney off the back of the ambulance and start to wheel him in. Wilson is unconscious with a neck brace, several deep cuts on one side of his chin and his left arm is in a stint.

"What are his stats?" Cameron asks urgently as they enter the hospital.

"BP 138over72, pulse 180; he was thrown from a motorcycle over the hood of a speeding car and landed hard," one paramedic answers as they enter an exam room and begin to lift him from the gurney to the exam table. "Possible concussion; that's his second pint of blood, he's bleeding somewhere internally," he finishes, grabs a few of his equipment and backs up while the ER doctor and several attendants work on him then silently leaves the room with his partner.

As everyone does their job in examining whether he broke any bones or there is severe internal damage, Cameron pitches in and presses down on the left side of his stomach and says, "Stomach feels hard, possible bleeding here."

She suddenly hears Wilson moan softly. She stops and moves closer to him, bending down so she can hear him while the attendants finish their examination. "Wilson, James? Can you hear me?" she asks softly. He continues to moan softly but is incoherent.

"Give him 10mg morphine for the pain," she says as she steps back and watches the team work on him. She feels a hand on her shoulder and she knows it's Chase's hand but doesn't push it away. She turns and looks at him with deep concern in his eyes.

"I…we…had a fight and I…stormed out of his office," she stutters, feeling guilty for thinking she is one that made him leave in the first place. Chase remains quiet but tightens his grip on her shoulder for emotional support.

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Back in House's room he has been awake for almost an hour watching a taping of General Hospital that Wilson was kind enough to record for him the day before. Cuddy walks into his room, turns off the t.v. and turns to face House.

"What the hell…"

"What was Wilson doing driving your bike?" she asks with anger in her voice.

He hesitates before he answers her because he doesn't understand why she is so angry. He tries to think of something smart-assed to say but gets the feeling there is a serious reason why she asks him. "There was something at home I asked him to get for me."

She glares down on him. "Oh, I see. Well, I hope it was more important than the life of your friend," she says snottily.

"Cuddy, what are you _talking_ about?" he asks, starting to get a bad feeling in his stomach. "Did something happen to Wilson?"

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Mr. and Mrs. House walk through the door of House's apartment when they hear the sirens very close to them. John unlocks the front door, walks through and holds the door for Blythe then closes the door behind her.

"Do you want some more coffee, John?" Blythe asks as she heads to the kitchen and John sits on the couch.

"No, Bly," he answers in a soft whisper.

Blythe loads scoops of coffee into the filter, hits 'brew' and walks into the living room. I'm going to change. James put the luggage in the bed…oh, I see them. I'll be right back."

Blythe walks into House's bedroom and sits on the edge of the bed for a moment, thinking of her son in the hospital.

'_God, I know you're listening. He's my only baby, the only baby you gave me. Please, _please_ let him be okay.'_ She prays quietly to herself as she feels the tears fall for the first time since their arrival in Princeton.

After a moment she wipes her cheek and face of her tears, stands, gets a small suitcase, plops it on the bed and takes out a makeup bag, placing it on the bed. She grabs a few more things and heads to the bathroom, set in the corner of the master bedroom. A bottle of face cleaner slips from her arms and as she passes the dresser she starts to place the makeup bag on the dresser to readjust the items she's holding. She grumbles to herself when the bag falls off the dresser to the floor, and as she goes to pick it up she notices an opened grey tool box hidden behind a stack of books.

'_No, Blythe, don't look…no, this is his room, he's not a teenager anymore.'_ She thinks to herself, trying to talk her self out of taking down the box to see what is inside it. The curiosity gets the better of her and she places the items back on the bed and returns to the dresser. With both hands she reaches up for the box and the lid slams shut, but she brings it down and walks to the bed, setting it down next to her.

It takes her several minutes to get the courage to open the lid, for fear of the worst is building up inside of her. She takes a deep breath, closes her eyes and lifts the lid until it rests on its own in an open position. She slowly opens her eyes and gasps at what she sees.

"No, no, Greg, not this," she says out loud but quietly enough so that John doesn't hear her from the living room


	9. Fear From Within

**CHAPTER NINE – Fear From Within**

"Right now, Wilson is in the ER because he got in an accident on _your_ bike!" Cuddy yells at House, who immediately but painfully sits up as much as he can before the pain sears through him. "Wilson would _never _have used your bike if he didn't have some good reason for it," she says as she starts to pace back and forth at the foot of the bed.

"I don't know what kind of shape he is in yet but I know he's bleeding internally. You'd better pray he makes it through this! Oh, wait, you don't pray, do you?" she says sarcastically, angrily and with no pity at all for House, despite his own injuries. He is dumbstruck when he hears the news and is speechless; not too many things make him draw a mental blank.

"You'd better learn how to pray awful damned quick!" she continues to yell at him.

"When was he brought in?" he finally asks, clearing his throat because it had become severely dry all of a sudden.

"Oh, you _do_ care! I'll be damned! He was brought in 15 minutes ago. I wanted to inform you before I went down to check on him myself."

House shifts his eyes away from Cuddy trying to think of something, _anything_ to say that justified sending Wilson out on a 'hide the drugs' mission. Again, he is wordless.

"What was it, House! You needed your Vicodin? _No_, you could get that here. What about your…" Cuddy is interrupted by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. She turns around and sees Cameron standing there, her arms crossed and looking very sternly at Cuddy.

"Cameron, how's Wilson?" she asks, regaining her composure and softening her voice somewhat. Cameron hesitates a moment before she answers her.

"He's stable, just went up to surgery," she says quietly, almost in a whisper. She looks at House as she talks. "Broken arm, possible internal bleeding in stomach and concussion."

"Cameron, take me to the observation lou…" House starts to say but Cuddy cuts him off.

"You most certainly will _not_ go! I want you as far away from him as possible," Cuddy protests.

Cameron frowns at her as she doesn't understand exactly why Cuddy is blowing off full steam at House, but she knows Cuddy must have a very good reason. Cuddy then turns to leave and as she passes by Cameron she says, "Keep him away. You are responsible for him."

Cameron turns back and looks at House in total confusion. "Cameron, take me to the observation lounge where he's having his surgery," he tells her.

She doesn't hesitate at all when she says, "I can't do that." House is flabbergasted and she notices his chest turn a bright red, as it does sometimes when he gets extremely agitated or really upset over something.

"I sign your paychecks," he tells her.

"No, you don't. Cuddy does."

"I _give_ them to you," he corrects.

Cameron sighs and walks toward him, stopping just short of his bed. "House, I can't. Cuddy said so."

"Fine, then! I'll get up and take myself." he says.

He pulls the blanket off of him, throws his legs over the side of the bed, albeit slowly and seemingly painfully, puts both hands on the bed and tries to push himself up, almost losing his balance before he sits back down. He moans and groans a few times before he can catch his breath again from the pain that shot through his body.

"Aren't you going to help me?" he asks helplessly.

"No, what makes you think I would?" she shot back, almost proud that she hadn't crumbled and given in to him.

"Oh, you are _so_ fired," House snickers as he sighs and lies back in the bed.

"Wow, that's a relief, House. Now I don't have to quit on you again," she responds as she turns around and walks out of his room, leaving him with his face looking as if he'd just been dumped by Anjelina Jolie, which, in House's mind, would _never_ happen.

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Mom House continues to sit on her sons' bed in shock at the contents of the grey box. She looks over the syringes and first thinks it might be heroin, considering his personality change, but then sees the vial and picks it up. She is relieved, only a little, when she discovers it is Morphine. And the panic didn't fade as she recalled what she and Cuddy had briefly talked about before she and John left the hospital.

_FLASHBACK EARLIER…_

Blythe and Cuddy sat on the couch in her office, and Cuddy finally got the courage (or nerve) to tell her about House's addiction to Vicodin, but wasn't going to mention the Morphine that showed up on his blood work.

"Mrs. House…"

"Oh, call my Blythe, please," she said with a smile.

"This is very difficult to say, as I was hoping I wouldn't have to, but there is an issue with Hou…Greg…"

"I knew it! Is he ill? I mean, aside from his recent injuries," she asked and seemed to choke on the last few words.

"No, no. He'll make a full recovery, really. But what I'm concerned about, as is James, is the amount of medication he's taking for pain relief. It has gotten way out of control," she finally said, almost relieved to have finally said it, but also a bit ashamed for going behind House's back.

"Vicodin, right? I've heard that is highly addictive but he promised me he wasn't taking a lot of it. But, still, I had an idea he was."

"At first, no, he wasn't taking a lot. But it's gotten pretty bad lately."

"Has it interfered with his job?"

"Aside from getting shot, no."

Blythe's facial expression changed from one of concern to almost hatred toward her. "Dr. Cuddy, if there is anything I can do for Greg I would do it. I think any mother would for their child. I've noticed a difference in him, too, but he never talked to me about it, about anything that was bothering him. When he's up and about I will talk to him, I already told him we needed to," she said as she stood to leave.

Cuddy stood as well and faced Blythe. "That's what I'm concerned about. He is at the point where he won't take anyone's help. I hope, truly, that you have better success than we've had."

"John is waiting for me. And thanks for telling me. I'll talk to him as soon as the time is right," Blythe said as she headed toward the door.

"Soon, Blythe, soon?" Cuddy asked hopefully.

Blythe nodded her head as she walked through the door, the door closing behind her.

_FLASHFORWARD TO THE PRESENT…_

Blythe hasn't realized she's been crying as her thoughts carry her back to what Cuddy had said to her. Her heart skips a beat as she hears John's voice in the living room and she hollers out that she's almost done. She closes the lid of the box and finds a good place in the bottom of the closet, behind some old shoes and a few storage boxes.

'_Not my baby, not my baby…'_ she says to her self over and over. She straightens her pants and finishes freshening up, suddenly feeling completely physically and emotionally exhausted.

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Wilson is lying on the table in operating room six as Dr. Zhang tries frantically to stop the bleeding.

"More sponges!" he orders loudly as a nurse dabs a sponge in the cut that was made to search for the source of the bleed, which unfortunately he hasn't found as quickly as he'd hoped.

"What's his blood pressure?" he asks.

"124/over/62; we've got to get that back up," the anesthesiologist says.

"I know, I know," Dr. Zhang says exasperatingly. "I can't find the bleed!" He maneuvers his fingers in the opening to feel for where the tear might be when suddenly a high pitched, rapidly steady beeping sound echoes from one end of the table, from the barrage of equipment indication his vitals.

"Bfib, Dr," a voice says.

"Damnit! I can't see…sponge!"

The beep continues and the anesthesiologist informs Dr. Zhang that Wilson's blood pressure is dropping too rapidly.

"Flat line!" someone cries out.

A nurse standing in the corner of the room looks up at the observation room at the faces of Drs. Cuddy, Cameron, Chase and Foreman, who have all turned a shade of pale, out of fear, for the death of their friend and colleague.


	10. When Conscience Speaks, Listen

**A few things I want to explain cuz I've gotten some questions/statements. Cuddy's going off on House may not be in character, but she is fed up and extremely angry at House for what she feels he did to Wilson. We've never really quite seen Cuddy really, REALLY ticked at him, have we:o)**

**This chapter starts out with House talking to his conscience, which is represented by the **

**Again, thanks for the comments and reviews. They are much appreciated. **

**CHAPTER TEN – When Conscience Speaks, Listen**

Back in House's room he's awake, still worrying about Wilson. He can't stop the thoughts that are running through his head:

_'I'm not responsible for Wilson's accident. It was a fluke. I'm NOT!' _

Didn't you send him home to hide your stash?

'_Yes, but only to prevent Mom from seeing it. Dad would have absolutely…'_

Who cares about your father? You're not a kid, you're a man now. It's your life.

'_You're right. I don't care what Dad would think. It's Mom I'm worried about. She's the one that is going to be heartbroken. I just can't do that to her.'_

Yeah, that'd be just plain cruel. You're a bad son.

'_I am NOT!'_

You're a bad person.

'_No, no, I'm not. I'm a good person.'_

You'd only be happier if you were dead.

'_Shut up, shut UP!'_

Die! DIE! Why not? You've already killed him!

'_No…no…no…'_

House feels the sweat pour down both sides of his face and he brings his hand up to wipe it dry, but it isn't sweat. They are tears, quite a few tears, more tears than he's cried since Stacy left. Without even thinking he reaches for the panel on the inside of the rail of the bed and presses the button to up his morphine.

But he's not hurting, though, not physically anyway. At the moment it's his heart that is breaking, his soul that is slowly dying. He's killed Wilson. He chose. He decided to take drugs over a friendship.

'_Go away pain, go away…'_ And he drifts off to sleep, not a peaceful sleep, but sleep nonetheless.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Both Cuddy and Cameron have their faces practically pressed against the panel of glass that overlooks the operating room while the doctors and nurses below work to revive Wilson. They've been working on him for the past ten minutes and there is still no pulse, no brain wave, nothing. They've shocked his heart three times now and given him a total of 60cc Provexro, which would technically kill any human being.

"Damn! I'm going to have to open his chest to massage his heart," the doctor says as he looks at his nurse, who quickly goes for a chest cutter when suddenly she thinks she hears the 'beep' of the heart monitor. She turns, stops and listens but the noise from the others are making it difficult for her to hear.

"Pat? Is he back?" she asks the anesthesiologist as she approaches the table, but didn't hand the cutters to the doctor just yet. She nods her head and there is a collective sigh in the room, as there is in the observation room, and they start to get Wilson back to sinus rhythm and his heart beating normally.

Chase takes a few steps closer to Cameron, who's standing in front of the window with her arms crossed tightly across her chest. He looks at her, deeply, and sees the outside of her left eye is wet, and soon a plump, wet tear falls down her cheek onto her collar bone. He puts his right arm around her shoulder and she doesn't pull away. On the contrary, she seems to melt in his arms. Her body presses closer to his and he just holds her tighter, trying to reassure her that Wilson is going to make it.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

House is in his late teens and he's walking through a forest of deep green trees, thick, so tall and dense that they block the sun from beaming down on him. He hears the sounds of birds chirping in the trees, little creatures scurrying under the brush around him, the sound of water trickling from a stream somewhere. But with all the noise that surrounds him it is quiet, oddly quiet, almost deafening.

"This isn't right," he says out loud to no one, not a human, anyway. His head flies from the right to left, keeping guard, expecting someone to jump out and attack him.

But then he hears something even more bizarre off in the distance, a familiar sound, a voice. The voice sounds hollow, deep, disembodied. He hesitates a moment before he heads off toward the sound. As he gets closer the sound grows louder and he can feel his heart pumping faster as the fear builds up within him.

"WHHHHYYYYYY?" a cry echoes around him from all sides.

He looks straight ahead, knowing the sound is coming from the bend to the left only 100 feet away. He slowly takes one step closer, not picking up his feet but more scurrying them along, thinking that will delay the inevitable.

Closer, closer, closer he walks, and as he turns the bend of the path he sees…

Dr. James Wilson, his head in the shade of a pine tree. His head and only his head, wears a menacing grin. His brown eyes are looking at House, almost through to his soul when Wilson's head asks, "Why? Why? Why did you kill me?"

House is speechless as the goose bumps build up on his arms and he begins to shiver. It's not from the cold, though, it's from the seeing rest of Wilson's body that is lying under a bush beside the pine tree…….

"Greg, Greg, honey! Wake up!"

House's eyes shoot open and he bolts up in bed, grimacing and screaming at both the pain and the dream he's just had. "Wilson…Wilson…Wil...," he mutters as he looks at his mom but doesn't really see her.

"You had a nightmare, baby. You're fine. Now lie down before you bust your stitches," Blythe says lovingly as she wipes the sweat from his cheeks.

He looks at his mom and slowly recognition returns to his eyes. "Oh, Mom," he says softly. "Maw…Mom…"

"Sshhh, Greg. I'm here, Dad's here. You're fine, baby."

"Wil...son…how' Wilsah?"

"He's been out of surgery for over an hour now."

"Heees okay? Iz hee okay?" House mutters, slurring his words.

"Oh, Greg. James is fine. He's fine."

He looks at her confused, like he's seen her for the first time. "He's ok? He's okay." He takes a deep breath and slowly exhales. "He's ok…hees okay…" And he drifts off to sleep.

Blythe looks at John, who stands on the other side of the bed and gives him a look of worry and concern. She's afraid she's going to lose her boy. She's never seen him like this, _never_. She looks back down at her sleeping son.

"Don't take him from me, Lord. We need him, _I_ need him. Please," she prays then breaks into tears.

John walks to the other side of the bed, takes her by her shoulders and slowly walks her out of House's room to the sitting area in the hall. He gently sits her down and holds her hand.

"Bly, he'll be fine. He's a tough kid. I didn't raise no sissy boy. He's got the skin of an armadillo, that boy."

"John, I hope you're right. I really hope you are right."


	11. One Rung Higher

**CHAPTER ELEVEN – One Rung Higher**

Dr. James Wilson has just been wheeled in to the I.C.U. after his surgery went as well as can be expected after his traumatic accident. He indeed has a mild concussion and his left arm has been straightened and put in a cast, with the bleeding in his stomach under complete control now.

Drs. Chase, Cameron and Foreman return to the conference room after the surgery is complete and Cuddy heads straight for House's room to inform him of his condition. She's been thinking about the way she went off on him earlier and felt a little bad about it. But he's never made her that mad before; there's always a first time for everything.

She walks into his room still holding a little grudge against him when she suddenly realizes his parents are in the room and she immediately softens her mannerism. Blythe is sitting in a chair closest to the bed while John is sitting in a chair in the corner next to the window and reading a magazine, looking up only to see who has come in the room.

"Hi, Mr. and Mrs. House. How's the patient of the week?" she asks as she heads toward the bed to check on his vitals. She finds him sleeping, his heart rate strong and steady and his pulse excellent.

Cuddy turns to Blythe and asks, "How long has he been asleep?"

"A good two hours, now. How's James?" she asks concerned. They both were informed of his injuries after overhearing some nurses talking about his accident and current condition.

"He's out of surgery and doing well, although we won't know how much damage, if at all, was caused by the concussion until he wakes up."

Blythe nods her head and looks back at House. "He had a nightmare earlier," she says softly, "a pretty bad one."

"With all the medication he's on that's not unusual. He should be able to get up and around by tomorrow afternoon and that will help flush some out of his system." Cuddy says as she leans against the wall.

"Great, you should clear the hallways in case he decides he wants to kill another patient," John says then brings his attention back down to the magazine.

"John! Not now. We agreed," Blythe chastised her husband.

"Oh, Blythe, I'm only teasing my son."

"Teasing him about his beardless face is one thing but NOT about a patient that almost killed our son!"

She immediately recomposes herself again after her outburst. She then sees House's right leg move and his head move to the side, a soft, grumbling, groaning sound emit from his lips. Blythe doesn't talk to him right away because she thinks he might be having another nightmare.

His eyes slowly open and he focuses on his mother then at Cuddy. "Wilsah?" he mutters under his breath. Cuddy relays the same information that she had to Blythe and he seems to gradually relax.

"Dr. Cuddy says you should be up and about tomorrow afternoon. Isn't that great?" Blythe asks excitedly. House only nods his head with an unenthusiastic grin.

"Yeah, that's excellent," says John from the corner as he stands and approaches the trio. "That means you should be running in what, a month?" he asks, but all three know by the tone in his voice and demeanor that he again was 'just teasing' his son.

House rolls his eyes and looks away from his father, who has just caused his heart monitor to skip a couple of beats. Blythe notices the expression on John's face when he, too, notices it, but neither saying a word.

"Well, I'll leave you three alone. I'll check back with you later, House," Cuddy says as she pats his right foot and leaves the room.

She almost reaches the elevator, stops and leans against the wall. _'No wonder he always tries to avoid his parents…well, his father, anyway,'_ she thinks to herself. _'Now I know why House never had me meet his parents.'_ She pushes herself off the wall and continues to head back to her own office.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The triplets are sitting in the conference room doing nothing but staring at each other, with the occasional glance at the pool of wet carpet from the blood that maintenance tried to clean the day before but seemingly unsuccessful.

Foreman glances at his watch and sighs. "Hey, it's almost 5:30. You two want to get a bite to eat?" Cameron nods her head and Chase tells him no. "Well, I'm going. Catch you later." With that he prances out of the office like he hasn't almost lost his boss and colleague within a little over 24 hour period.

"Cameron? Would you let me drive you home?" Chase asks nervously. She looks up at him and by the expression on her face he knows he just said the wrong thing and now the little kitten he knew is about to turn into a ferocious cougar and attack him.

Instead she answers, "Would you mind?"

Chase is _so_ thrilled with himself that Cameron said yes he practically jumps out of his shoes, figuratively speaking, of course. She seems to pick up on his excitement and can't hide smile, a snickering smile, but a smile nonetheless. She stands and he walks to the door to open it for her. She nods a 'thank you' and he says, "You're welcome."

The two walk down the hall of PPTH in a possible new level of relationship; well, that is what Chase is hoping for, anyway.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Ok, I shan't leave y'all in a cliffhanger…this time. :O) I need to keep some of y'all hanging around to read, right?

Thanks again for your reviews and comments. They are taken into consideration and then I address them in the next chapter.

More soon!


	12. Love Over a Pizza

**This if for you Chase/Cameron lovers out there! Hope you like this. I think it's kinda sweet. :o)**

**And thanks again for the reviews!**

**CHAPTER TWELVE – Love Over a Green Pizza**

"Bly, it's almost 6 o'clock, we should get something to eat," John says to her as they stand by their sons' bed after Cuddy left them. House is still awake but closes his eyes briefly a few times. "He needs to sleep."

"No, I'm not hungry," she tells him as she fiddles with the top sheet around House's chest. "And he can still sleep while I'm here."

"Go," House whispers groggily as he swallows hard.

"You want some water, honey?" Blythe asks but House shakes his head slowly and carefully.

"We can just get something in the cafeteria," John insists and Blythe is slowly becoming impatient with her husband.

"John! I _said_ I'm NOT hungry!" she says harshly. "Go if you have to but I am staying here with my son." House looks at his father to see his reaction because he's never seen his mom this irritable and short with him before.

'_She saw it, I KNOW she has, damnit,'_ he thinks to himself.

John's eyebrows crease in a frown as he sighs, puts his hand on his son's shoulder and says, "I'll be back. You want some yogurt or something? I don't think Dr. Cuddy would let you have a reuben," he states, forcing a smile across his lips.

"No, Dad. Thanks," he mutters. John nods his head, looks at his wife like a dog that wet the carpet and leaves the room.

"Mom, he only wants you to eat; you know you get sick if you don't," House says as he tries to sit up a bit.

She heaves a sigh says, "Oh, I know. I think I owe him his favorite dinner, pot roast, when we get home." She forces a laugh to lighten the mood a bit.

'_I will not bring it up, not now. But it's killing me,'_ she thinks to herself, feeling a knot in her stomach the size of Michigan.

He grins back and tells her, "Thanks."

She looks at him and says, "Oh, you don't need to get all worked up over your father…"

"No, no, for being here."

She gives him a genuine smile, leans in and kisses him on the forehead. "You were so pig-headed about us not coming down when you had the infarction that we didn't. And I've regretted it to this day."

"But I really wanted you here, then" he says sleepily.

"It's okay, Tigger. I'm here now. I'm here now, baby."

"I hate it whe' ewe caw me tha'" he mutters seriously (but Mom knows different), closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep, with the most security a child can ever have in its' life: by its' mother side.

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D.

Chase and Cameron walk into her apartment. She throws her key ring on the table by the door, throws her purse on the couch as she walks by and heads to the kitchen. "You want coffee?" she asks him.

"Uh, no thanks, but I'll take a soda if you have one."

"All I've got…" she yells then realizes Chase has followed her to the doorway of the kitchen and lowers her voice, "is diet Coke. That okay?"

"Eck, I guess so," he moans as he watches her make the coffee then opens the refrigerator door to retrieve his soda.

"I've got some leftover pizza if you want it. I think I got it two nights ago," she says as she takes the box out and places it on the counter and walks back to the coffee machine.

Chase doesn't answer but walks over to the counter and flips open the pizza lid, wrinkling his nose at the looks of the pizza: it looks very dry, hard and chunky; the edges look just a tad forest green and fuzzy to him.

"Uh, I'm really not hungry," he tells her.

She turns around, sees the expression on his face and looks at the pizza. "Oh, God," she says as she walks toward him, "Guess it's been longer than that." She looks up at Chase and sees him smile, which makes her smile back at him.

And for some reason they laugh for several minutes, sometimes so hard Cameron grabs her stomach and tears roll down her cheeks. But, soon the tears of laughter turn into tears of pain and she collapses on the floor on her knees.

"Cam…Allison, are you okay?" Chase asks out of sudden concern, no longer laughing. He kneels down beside her and looks at her. "It's just a pizza," Chase says, knowing she isn't crying over the food but hoping the minor joke would stop the tears.

"I…mm…not…crying over th…pizza…," she sniffles then lets a few chuckles of laughter escape. "I'm just so…so tired."

Chase reaches his hand out and rests it on her shoulder. "Allison, we've all been stressed the past few days. It's good to cry, let it out," he says reassuringly. At that she leans in toward him and he catches her, wraps his arm around her shoulder and let her rest her head on his collar bone. She continues to cry and he gently rocks her back and forth for almost ten minutes, not saying a word to her.

When he feels all the strength drain from her and feels limp against him, he stands, bends down, puts his arm under the crook of her knees and wraps his other arm around her back and lifts her up in his arms. She doesn't resist him as he carries her out of the kitchen, through the living room and into the bedroom, gently laying her on the bed with her head on the pillow.

He looks at her for a second before he says, "Get some sleep, okay."

She sniffles a few times, wipes her nose and begs, in between a failed breath through the nose, "Sssday."

"I am. I'll be right in the living room."

"Doe, ssday wid me, here," she says as she turns on her side facing him.

He looks at her confused, worried and a trillion other emotions before he declines. "I can't, it wouldn't be a good idea."

"I don' wand to be alone, please," she says weakly, as her eyes beg to him more than her words do.

He thinks about it, for just a split second, uncomfortably sits on the bed and slowly lies down on his side, waiting for an unprecedented 20.0 point earthquake to rattle the bedroom at any second and wake him up from this dream he is apparently having.

But as Chase looks at Cameron's face, something starts to build up inside of him. Seeing her lay there, with her head on her crooked arm and her left hand under her chin looking at him, brings something out in him that he isn't expecting. He wonders to himself if she is feeling the same way, and his question is answered a moment later.

She scoots closer to him, stopping when her chest meets his and places her head on his pillow, puts her left arm over his waist and buries her face in his neck. It takes him a moment to figure out what he should do, but he knows what to do.

He reaches his right arm out to her, placing it over her waist, and pulls her even closer to him. And they lay there, side by side, holding each other, out of comfort? Out of necessity? Out of…what?

"Thanks," she says as she sniffs once more and relaxes into him. He smiles but doesn't answer her. He's afraid if he talks he'll wake up, and this is one dream he doesn't want to wake from if it is.


	13. Never Bet on a Loser

**I realized I haven't really covered how our Wilson is doing, so here is a short chapter to ease those worried hearts.**

**OH, AND AS I AM NOW GOING INTO MIDNIGHT, THINK I'LL HAVE TO CHANGE THE TITLE TO: THE DAYS FOLLOWING THE DAY AFTER. Lol just joking :o)**

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN – Don't Bet On a Loser**

A few hours later, the floor of the Intensive Care Unit is quiet except for the varied but continuous beeps of heart monitors of the patients in for whatever major medical reason. A nurse checks the back of a patient's hand to make sure the I.V. tube is securely fastened in his vein, reviews the vital stats on the screen next to the bed and quietly slips out of the room.

Down the hall, a man lurks behind a corner and watches the nurse leave the room he's been keeping an eye on for the past five minutes. When he sees her sit behind her desk and turns her back away from the door, he slowly yet fearlessly shuffles his cheap, cottony papered slippered feet across the cold linoleum floor.

'_My leg…my leg…hmmm, don't know if it still hurts or not, but my side is_ killing _me.'_

He cringes when he suddenly hears a high pitched protest from the wheels of the stand he's pulling, one that holds a bag of fluids with a tube leading into his right arm. _'Shhhh, shut up, wheels!'_ he says to himself as he keeps watching the nurse as he gets closer to the door.

When he finally enters the room successfully he heads straight for the bed of the patient. The man he's looking at appears pale, his face cut here and there but nothing too deep; his right arm in a cast and an oxygen tube in his nose; he is breathing steadily, not labored at all. He leans against the railing of the bed for support because he suddenly feels weak.

He stares at Dr. James Wilson for a few minutes, looking at him intently when suddenly a noise comes from the corner of the room that makes him jump and turns his head in the direction of the noise.

"Well," says a female's voice. She stands and looks at her wristwatch as she approaches the bed. "It's 12:03 am, looks like I won the bet."

"Cuddy," House says, looking startled. "What are you doing here so late?"

"Two of my best doctors of this hospital are cooped up as patients and I have to find replacements awfully quick. I've been busy. But it's okay, the $200 I won from Foreman and Chase will help toward a vacation."

House nods his head, looking not at all ashamed of 'being caught in the act'. "Has he woken yet?" Cuddy simply shakes her head.

"What about the concussion?"

Cuddy shrugs her shoulders. "Still don't know, but I don't think there's any permanent damage." She walks around to the other side of the bed, grabs the I.V. stand and starts to walk away with it, House still being attached.

"Hey! I'm connected to that!" House gripes but has to take a few steps to avoid ripping the needle out.

"Then you'll just have to follow me, won't you?" she asks as she stops, turns around and looks at him.

He challenges her by glaring right back at her and says, "I want to stay a few more minutes, Mom, please? Can I? Can I, huh, huh?"

At his childish begging she has to smile at him. "No, I don't need two of you in the I.C.U. Now, come on." And she walks toward the door once more.

He doesn't have a choice at this point so he follows her out of the room, trying not to walk too fast but finding it hard to keep up with her.

"Thanks, Maddy," Cuddy says to the nurse, the very nurse House had been hiding from moments ago.

"What was that for?" he asks as they walk down the hall.

"Oh, when she came in to check on Wilson she told me a weird looking man was behind the corner, holding an I.V. stand."

"She so did NOT see me!" he protests as she presses the down arrow button for the elevator. "And I am NOT weird looking."

"Yes, you are," Cuddy disagrees as the elevator door opens and they step on, both watching as the door closes. "But you won't be in, I'd say, two more days."

"What are you talking about?" he asks as the door opens a moment later and they step out into the hall.

"Your shadow."

"We just left my shadow in his room, Cuddy," House says as they enter his room, knowing full well what she meant. "I think I look dashingly handsome and young without my beard," he says as he sits down on the bed.

"More like dastardly ugly and old without it," Cuddy corrects as she finishes pushing the stand into place beside the bed.

"Ok, now, you'd better stay in your room or I'm going to have to take drastic measures," Cuddy says.

"Ooooh, tie me up? I think I'd like that. But, you know, with my wounds and all you know we can't have sex."

"Wow, I wonder how I'm going to sleep tonight," she teases as she puts her hands on her hips. "Keep your tush in bed and STAY THERE!" she orders as she turns to walk away.

"Yes, ma'am," he says with a smile. "Cuddy? What was the bet?" he asks as he settles in bed.

"Chase bet you'd be in Wilson's room between 5 and 6am, Foreman bet after 2 but before 5am and I bet after midnight. You were three minutes late," she says with a wink.

"Wait, didn't Cameron bet?"

Cuddy smiles and tells him, "No. She didn't think you'd leave at all. Silly girl, she'll never learn," she says with a laugh. "Now get to sleep."

House gives her a huge smile and softly chuckles. "That's my girl."


	14. Bridge Over Troubled Waters

Ok, it appears 'the Morning After' will turn into 'the Week After.' But that's okay, right:o)

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN – Bridge Over Troubled Waters**

'_Gotta get to his apartment … gotta hide … what? Was I _really _riding his bike? No, that couldn't have happened. Wait, what _did_ happen? Head hurts, arm hurts. Nurse? NURSE? Why can't anyone _hear_ me?'_

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D

As Chase slowly wakes up in the early morning hours at first he thinks he's in a strange room then familiarity comes back and he knows the room well. He subconsciously reaches out for Cameron but all he sees is an empty spot and an indent on a pillow where a head once lay on it. He sits up and listens for any noise from the bathroom, as he thinks that's where she might be. After a few moments of silence he gets out of bed and heads to the living room, softly calling out her name. There is no answer.

He walks past the couch and almost misses her sitting in the recliner in the dark, staring at him with a blank expression on her face. "Oh, Allison, you scared me for a sec." She still doesn't answer. He takes a deep breath and sits on the couch next to the recliner. "You okay?" he asks, with no reply. "Please talk to me," he begs.

Silence fills the room after he sighs heavily and leans back on the sofa, not once taking his eyes off of her. He notices the wrinkles from worry in the corners of her eyes; the blackness under her eyelids and the sadness in her eyes. But he doesn't know why she's so sad. _'Do I_ really _want to know?'_ he thinks to himself.

After almost ten minutes Chase jumps suddenly when he hears Cameron's voice break the silence. "Robert?" He leans forward on the couch and listens intently to her. "Why did you talk to Wilson about that night we, uh, you came over?" she asks quietly, not looking at him but continues to stare out the dark window.

"Because you were completely freaked out with the meth and in the process you freaked me out. I should have stopped us. I shouldn't have let it happen but it did, and I told you it didn't suck. But it didn't seem like it meant anything to you."

"Of course it didn't mean anything." At those words his face instantly changes into a man that has just had his heart plucked out. "Look, we never really talked about that night but I'm sorry it happened."

"Oh, really?" he asks with a tone of cynicism. "Granted, you were stoned, but why did you ask _me_ over and not House? Huh? Why was it that night you attacked me and not him?" he angrily demands.

At the mention of his name her head turns and glares at him with the look of a wild cat about to pounce on an unsuspecting mouse. She stands up and starts to pace back and forth in front of the window, never answering his question. He stands, too, and steps in front of her on one of her turns.

"Answer me, Cameron! You were so high that night you could have called House and I'm sure he would have run over here in two seconds flat, bum leg or no. But you called me. Why me, Allison? If you don't subconsciously like me why DID YOU CALL ME INSTEAD OF HOUSE?" he demands, getting more furious at every word.

She hesitates then backs up a few steps, putting her hands on her hips and whispers, "Because he knew I was high and wouldn't come over." And those words forced Chase to take a few steps back himself.

"Oh, I get it. I knew you used me for sex but I was your second choice?" he says, his voice getting louder with every word. "Unbelievable, Cameron, really unreal. I don't even know you anymore. That _man_ has got you all twisted in the panties and you can't even _think_ straight."

"Robert, I didn't want you to know…"

"Oh, well, I know now, don't I? You don't get it, Allison! That man doesn't give a SHIT about anybody but himself. You don't deserve to be treated like that…"

"You think you know what I do and do not need?" she shoots back.

"All I know is you sure as hell don't need a man like House."

"And what makes you think I need someone like YOU, Chase?"

Chase smiles, not wickedly but more reassuringly and walks toward the apartment door, opening it before he turns to face her once more. "Because subconsciously, whether you want to accept it or not, you like me. You just can't admit it to yourself. It's okay, though. But if and when you _do _decide you want me, I may not be available." He walks through the door and purposely slams the door shut.

Cameron stands in the room in complete shock staring at the paneling on the back of the door. "YOU SON OF A KOALA TURD! I DON'T WANT YOU! I'D RATHER…I'D rather…."

She is so out of control at this point she brings her right leg back and swings it forward, aiming directly at the bottom of the couch. Unfortunately for her there is a thick piece of wood that meets her five toes and she hears a few of them cracking. She screams out with several curse words before she collapses on the sofa from the pain, crying heavily.

After several minutes the pain subsides just a bit and she realizes she's no longer crying about her broken toes, but actually over the man that just walked out of her apartment. He is right and she knows it; she just can't convince herself whether it's worth falling in love with Chase or not.

Outside in the hallway Chase is leaning against the wall by her apartment door, listening to her curse and scream and cry and he's wearing a sly half-grin. He turns to walk to the stairs when he hears a door open and his name being called. He ignores it until he reaches the top of the steps and stops, turns and looks at Cameron, who is limping down the hall on her right heel.

"Chase," she begs but he makes no effort to console her. As she got within five feet of her she stops and leans against the wall. "I think I broke some toes."

"Really? Hmm, why don't you call House?" he says snottily.

"Low blow, Chase."

"Yeah, it was. Like it?"

She shook her head then leans it against the wall. "Chase, look, I'm sorry. You're right. Please, it's 3:30 in the morning. Stay til we're ready to go back to the hospital to see House and Wilson."

"Oh? And why should I stay if I'm not wanted?"

All the fight is out of her and she knows she's been defeated and forces a little smile. "You're wanted, Robert, you're wanted. Besides, I'll need you to drive me to the hospital about my broken toes."

"Ah, there she goes again, using me," he says, but she picks up on the fact that he is indeed teasing, although he is not smiling and still looks very stern.

"You like being used, don't you? Please, I'm sorry, Chase. I'll make waffles," she offers.

He looks down at her right foot and says, "Don't think you'll be standing on that leg for long periods for a while."

"Hey! Maybe I'll get a cane, just like House!" Cameron says with a little laugh as she turns and walks back to her apartment.

After she takes a few steps she realizes he isn't behind her so she stops and turns around. But he's still there, watching her.

"Fine, you get the cane. But if you start acting like House I will PERSONALLY throw you off the balcony of House's office!" he said with a smile before he starts walking toward her.

When he reaches her she's says, "Deal."

And the two walk back to her apartment as if nothing has happened: no angry words were spat, no names were called, no accusations that weren't true, but some that were.

Drs. Chase and Cameron have just crossed one rickety, dangerous and vulnerable bridge with no planks of wood falling to the depths of a giant crevice. That's a good sign. That's a very good sign.


	15. Slip, Sliding Away

**It's Tuesday; there is no House tonight and I am feeling especially evil. So, I've provided this chapter to bring each and every one of you into my world so we can suffer together. :o)**

**Wow, think I need aspirin. Lol**

**Thanks for the wonderful reviews, and for AtreidesHeir who is kinda my muse (or muser? What's a male muse? Arent' muses female? Sigh).**

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN – Slip, Sliding Away**

House awakens later that morning by a nurse who is readjusting the injection site of the I.V. tube. He grunts and turns his head toward the nurse, not bothering to open his eyes; he can feel the sun shining in the room and he knows it will seer into his eyes. After a moment he can tell the nurse moves into the stream of light and he slowly opens his eyes.

"Well, hello, sleepy head," says a familiar voice, coming from a familiar face, but not at all an acceptable scenario.

"Wilson," he starts to say, looking confused and peculiar at him. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be in bed?"

"Nah! I feel fine, really. I just have a little headache but a dose of morphine will do the trick." Wilson answers with a smile on his face.

"But, you don't have a cast on your arm…the concussion…"

"Oh, don't need a cast now, House. I am 100 cured – well, 99 because I still have the headache."

"This…I don't understand…this can't be real. You don't sound like the Wilson I know and loved," House stammers, albeit a bit comical with that last word.

"Oh, I am a much better person now. I'm happy. And you will be glad to know there _is_ an afterlife; or, maybe not."

House's mouth drops and the space above his nose wrinkles in many lines as his eyes dig deeper into Wilson, trying to understand what exactly is going on. "Oh, wait. I get it! I'm dreaming! This isn't real! Because there _IS _no afterlife," House says and relaxes back down in the bed, closing his eyes and waiting to wake up again to reality this time.

The room grows silent and after a few minutes he dares to open his eyes. The first thing he sees as his lids slowly rise is Wilson's waist, then his chest, then his face. _'Okay, he's still here. But he's not supposed to be here. Wait, afterlife? What the hell…oh, no, no, no, no, no...'_

"No…no…no!" House screams as he bolts up in a sitting position, instantaneously crying out loud as the pain rips through his body. He throws himself back down, not once opening his eyes. He's afraid to; he's afraid of what he'll see. _'It was a nightmare. That's all it was. A nightmare,' _he thinks to himself.

"Nope, sorry, Ace," Wilson's voice rings through his ears. "It's no nightmare. Let's just say it's a dream, a nice dream even. Sorry, but I can't help with any wet dreams," Wilson says with a laugh.

House opens his eyes, looks at Wilson and asks, "Then why are you here?"

"I'm here because it's time for me to go now. I've been allowed to come back to tell you something."

"Fine, I'll bite. It's a dream, anyway, right? Hey! Can you get Angelina Jolie for me?" House laughs a little unnervingly.

"Nope, she's in Namibia. She had a girl," Wilson tells him calmly, his voice almost angelic.

"Damn."

"Anyway, I came back to tell you I don't blame you."

House looks at him confused and asks, "Of course you don't…wait, don't blame me for _what_?"

"I didn't have to take your bike. Heck, I shouldn't have gone in the first place. But I did, because that's what I'd do for a friend. I wanted to protect you, I've always done that. But you are on your own, now. I won't be around to protect you anymore."

House continues to look at Wilson perplexed; he's not sure anymore if this is a real dream or a dream within a dream. If it was a dream, can it possibly be true that Wilson _is_ in the room with House? If that's the case then that means…

"Wilson!" House cries out, his body shuddering as the rest of his body becomes awake, his head tossing back and forth to wake himself up from the nightmare. "WILSON!"

"House, HOUSE! It's okay. It was a dream." He hears a recognizable voice and feels something pressing against his forehead; it's cold and damp and actually feels good to him.

"Wils…he died…he's gone…," he mutters out loud, almost incoherently.

"No, no, House. Wilson is fine. He's still in I.C.U. but he's going to be okay."

"No, he said…blames me…," House mumbles as his head slowly stops tossing to and fro.

"Give him 20cc Noxtria," a disembodied voice says.

"No, no, don' put me out. Need…to see…Wilson…"

Within a few seconds he feels his head become foggy and his body slowly melts away. "Staaayyy awaak…gotta staaay awaaa…" and in seconds he is out cold.

Cuddy checks the vitals on the monitor beside House's bed and her shoulders visibly ease, but her face still shows much concern. She turns back to House and continues to pat his forehead and face with the damp washcloth.

"Cuddy, why did you lie to him?" says another female voice, who has been watching the two from the door of the room.

"Because with the fever as high as it is and him having nightmares, it only means the infection is getting worse. He doesn't need to know Wilson slipped into a coma overnight," Cuddy tells Cameron, and continues to pat the sweat away from House's forehead and brow.


	16. The Ex Is Back

Okay, I did a little research on comas, and I believe I've provided the correct information. But if it is wrong, please don't sue me. I'll just write you in a future chapter. lol

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN – The Ex Is Back**

Cameron sulkily walks to the conference room that morning after she visited House to see how his condition is. She is afraid to check on Wilson, yet she doesn't really know why. She walks in, oblivious to Chase and Foreman sitting at the table, and heads straight for House's office. She sits in his chair behind his desk and puts on the headphones, leans back and closes her eyes.

"Wow, she's really taking this hard, isn't she?" Foreman asks Chase.

"Yeah, we were both up til dawn talking. Long story, but he's still her boss, and it is a little unnerving having him 'gone'."

"Chase, why don't you go in there with her?"

"No, I'll give her some space. I think she needs it." Foreman only nods his head and doesn't press the issue of 'him and Cameron being up til dawn', because he thinks he already knows the answer. And deep down, Foreman is glad the two have finally come to their senses.

HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D. HOUSE M.D

"James, I am so sorry. I didn't want this to happen to you. I just couldn't live with you anymore. It doesn't mean I've stopped loving you," a voice says. The person is sitting talking to Wilson, holding his hand and fighting back further tears. "We've just grown apart after all these years; granted they were only six, but still. I never meant to hurt you."

"Excuse me, can I help you?" Cuddy asks as she enters Wilson's room and sees a woman at his bedside.

The woman looks at Cuddy, wipes her tear soaked cheeks and says, "I'm Julie, his wife…soon to be…," she cuts herself off as she tries to hold back more tears.

"Oh, Julie, I'm Dr. Cuddy, his physician slash boss," she says as she approaches the bed.

"The nurse told me he's fallen into a coma," Julie asks as she stands and walks to the window and looks out, crossing her arms as if hugging herself.

"Julie, let's go outside and talk." Julie turns to look at Cuddy, nods her head, wipes her cheek again and they both walk out into the hall.

Cuddy directs Julie to sit on a bench in a waiting area, closes the door and sits down next to her, taking a deep breath in preparation for updating Julie on his condition.

"He fell into the coma early this morning, about 4 a.m., although it's only a Stage One on the Glasgow Coma Scale. That just means the brain is registering pain but he can't respond to it. An EEG and BSER were done immediately to determine if there was bleeding in his brain, which there is none." Julie lets out a sigh of relief.

"Now, while he is responding to the stimuli and has shown some movement that just means the nerves' responses are being sent to the brain. He is not responding to verbal commands or voluntarily moving his body or verbally acknowledging the pain. The brain stem controls his breathing and blood pressure, that's why he's on the respirator, to breathe for him. But there is also damage in his brain, but only minimal, we believe. It is very rare to have just a severe brain stem injury."

"What does that mean?" Julie asks with a shaky voice.

"It means he can be in the coma for days, weeks, even possibly months."

"Oh, God," Julie stutters.

"Julie, I've already lined up a Dr. Timothy Sutherland. He is the best in coma research and rehabilitation…"

Julie cuts her off by asking, "rehabilitation?"

Cuddy nods her head and continues. "He's the top in his field for medical research on coma recovery. He worked 12 years at the Mayo Clinic and wrote two papers on the subject, receiving high accolades."

"Well good for him, but what does that have to do with Jim?"

Cuddy realizes Julie's shortness and doesn't let it affect her. "He'll be personally treating Wil…James to get him to come around out of the coma, hopefully sooner."

Julie stares at Cuddy blankly, trying to process all of the information she's just received.

"The way it works," Cuddy starts to further explain, "is Dr. Sutherland will do a series of procedures with him. It'll start with a mild massage twice a day intermixed with communication; it's referred to as Reactivity and Perceptivity. What that means is through touch and talk, it will hopefully stimulate the brain to respond, stronger and stronger until James breaks through the coma."

Julie shakes her head at first then slowly lets the information sink in. "If he moves and/or opens his eyes how will you know if he is fully out of it?"

"Good question. We'll know when he starts to respond to verbal commands, like moving a limb or blinking when asked, and the monitor he's connected to will indicate brain waves, telling us he is indeed responding as he should be. The next thing we want to look for is him breathing on his own, where as then we can remove the respirator."

"And there's no telling when that will happen?" Julie asks quietly.

"I'm afraid not. Right now we just have to wait and see."

"Is there anything I can do?" she asks as she stands, Cuddy does the same.

"It won't hurt to talk to him, but in a positive way, like good, happy memories or people in his family. Dr. Sutherland will be in around noon for the first session."

Julie nods her head, thanks Cuddy and heads back to Wilson's room. Cuddy takes a deep breath and silently prays that indeed things will be more positive than she presented it to Julie. She slowly walks back to her office but she tells herself she really must go home, but she can't. Not now. She's been running almost 48 hours now and it is beginning to take a toll on her.

Well, she did have the two hours with House. The thought made her smile. But that quickly disappeared when her thoughts went back to Wilson.

'_You've GOT to be okay, Wilson. I won't let you die. I WON'T.'_


	17. Affirmation

I hope this chapter appeases everyone :o)

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN - Affirmation**

Two days have since passed since Dr. Gregory House has been shot. The infection which caused his fever the day after the surgery quickly dissipated after the antibiotics did its job. He has been walking around the floor of the hospital a couple of times but with the aid of the I.V. stand because he is still mildly dehydrated. The pain in his leg is still pretty substantial and gradually he has been upping the morphine dosage and he is very, very close to the daily maximum allowed for a patient.

His parents are still in town but luckily Blythe has been coming to visit her son alone. Every time she sees him he just knows she's going to mention the gray box but she never has. But that is not a comfort to House – 'the longer the waiting time, the worse the punishment.' He has known that about his mother since he was a kid, but since he isn't a kid any more maybe he's safe now?

Chase and Foreman have been in to see him several times but Cameron has only been in twice, which surprises him. And the times she has come in she's quiet; quieter than he's used to her being. Cuddy, of course is a constant visitor, and aside from Wilson she is the most frequent visitor.

Dr. James Wilson never has visited House because he still continues to lie in a comatose state, still requiring a respirator to breathe and still non responsive to any stimulation provided by Dr. Sutherland, the physical therapist (for lack of a better word). A few times the nurses, and Julie when she was in the room, have been alarmed when he opens his eyes and seems to look at them, but once Cuddy takes a look at Wilson she confirms that he is still comatose. And all hopes are dashed for a speedy recovery from Wilson.

What makes matters worse is that Cuddy has denied House from visiting Wilson, although she has never given him a reasonable explanation. House desperately wants to see Wilson because the past two days have been _hell_ for him. He has continued to have nightmares about Wilson and the dreams have become more vivid and horrifically nightmarish that sometimes he doesn't want to administer the morphine for fear he will fall asleep and dream again.

The time is early afternoon and House has just come back to his room from physical therapy for his neck, and a little on his right leg, and he is completely exhausted. During the waiting time before an orderly brought him he has worked himself all up in a tither, becoming angrier at Cuddy for not allowing him to see Wilson.

So, Dr. Greg House puts his childhood battle plans into effect. As soon as the orderly leaves he lies in bed until he is completely out of sight. (Ok, actually, he rested about five minutes but that's not the point.) He takes a deep breath, grabs an edge of the tape holding the I.V. needle in the back on his hand, counts to three and quickly pulls the tape off the back of his hand. He groans and grunts loudly before he gently pulls the I.V. needle out of his hand, slips out of bed and goes to the bathroom for inspection before his mission begins.

"Okay," House says quietly but confidently as he stares at his reflection in the mirror. "Comb hair pause to comb ; check. Take a wizz pause to wizz-flushes toilet ; check. Let drawers drop to the floor pause ; check. Untie nasty-assed hospital gown pause ; check. Shake the _man_ awake pause, stares at himself in admiration ; check. MISSION, BEGIN!"

House walks out into the hallway, limping with his trusted cane, and amid stares of disgust (and a few eyeballs popping out), ignores them as he walks toward the elevator to visit Dr. Lisa Cuddy in her office, outside the lobby of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, where there will be patients in the waiting room, sure to become even MORE sicker (or miraculously healed) when they see a respected doctor flash them until he is taken off restriction to see Wilson.

The elevator doors open and he bravely walks out, passes the reception desk and Rosetta Sanchez warns him to 'cover up' but he ignores her. He continues to walk by and heads for Cuddy's office, opens the door and nonchalantly walks in.

"Hey, Dr. Cuddy! How's it going?" he shouts just to alarm her a bit, and indeed she jumps and gives him a dirty look for making her doing so.

"House! Get back in your room!" she demands, but her expression changes to almost a genuine smile, until she notices how daringly close the front of the gown is to showing something she just doesn't want to see.

"I want to see Wilson," he states.

"You will."

"No, I want to see him NOW."

"I'm afraid that's impossible," she says frankly.

"And why not?" he asks, raising his voice even more.

"I thought we covered that. You won't scare me by yelling at me."

"Oh, yeah? I can scare you," he threatens, placing his hands to his thighs.

"I doubt that'll scare me."

"Well, how about I go see some patients?"

"You wouldn't DARE!"

"Wouldn't I?"

The two have a staring contest for several minutes before House turns around and heads for the door, all the while Cuddy remains seated. The door opens and he walks through slowly, waiting for Cuddy to chase after him. But there is no hollering after him or hands holding him back, so he figures he's just _got_ to go through with it. He approaches the nurse's station, grabs a patient file and takes a few steps to the waiting area, standing still for a brief moment to make sure everyone has seen him stand there.

He looks at the name on the file and says, "Peter Scarborogh?" Not one person raises their voice or hand to indicate they are who this crazy lunatic is looking for. "I ca assure you I am a doctor. No Peter? Uh, it says here you have a little constipational issue?" A man in the far corner embarrasingly raises his hand. "Ah, there you are! Follow me." The man shakes his head, stands and heads for the door.

"Sir, please, wait," Cuddy says from behind House as she grabs the patient's file. "We'll have someone with you in just a moment. This man is actually an escapee from our Psyche Ward and I have to get him back as soon as possible." She says as she practically pushes House toward the elevators.

"Ow, Cuddy! Stop pushing me. You'll bust my stitches," House protests as they enter the elevator and the door closes behind them.

"Believe me, House, I'll bust more than your stitches!"

"Oh, and I believe you, too. Are we going to see Wilson?" he asks hopefully.

"Yes, but you owe me five hours of clinic duty."

"But I can't do clinic duty, boss! I'm sick!" he whines.

"When you are well, God let's hope it's months from now, you owe me five hours."

"Three," he says as the door opens and they walk off.

"It is NOT open for debate."

House mumbles under his breath as they approach Wilson's room. He feels his heart pound harder and faster in his chest as they get closer. Now, House has seen patients hooked up to all kinds of tubes and monitors and the like, but the sight of Wilson lying in the bed rips at his heart. He gulps hard and proceeds to his bed, holding his breath.

He realizes Cuddy is standing in the corner of the room and says, "You can go now."

"I don't think so. It's a supervised visit."

"Fine," he says as he turns back to Wilson and says, "Let me tell you about a dream I had last night, buddy! Man, it was wild." He laughs then continues. "There were three women and...no, wait, four, and..."

He hears Cuddy sigh and she says, "You have FIVE minutes," and she leaves the room.

House smiles to himself in triumph and stands at Wilson's bed, trying to think of something to say, _anything_. The words just don't come out. All he can do is look at him. After several minutes he finally says affectionately and with deep meaning, "Wilson, I...I am so sorry."

Suddenly the heart monitor beeps wildly, the brain waves flicker and at first he's concerned. "Wilson, can you hear me?" he asks, leaning in closer. "Open your eyes if you can hear me," he orders.

Nothing happens but the monitor continues to beep loudly as House grabs Wilson's hand and squeezes it. "Squeeze my hand back if you can hear me."

Nothing happens.

"Wilson, damnit! SQUEEZE MY HAND!"

A second passes when, ever so lightly, he feels Wilson's fingers softly tighten around his own. "Ok, that could just be a reflex. Squeeze my hand once if you think I'm the best looking man in the world."

Nothing happens.

House takes a deep breath. "Ok, fine, I'll give you that one. Squeeze if you think I'm the ugliest man in the world."

Not a milisecond goes by when he feels Wilson's fingers gently squeezeagain. House's heart skips a beat, he turns his head and screams, "CUDDY! Wilson's awake!"


	18. War of Words

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN – War of Words**

Cuddy rushes back into Wilson's room and approaches the bed.

"You're on a respirator," House tells Wilson as Cuddy examines the brain wave and blood pressure monitors then the oxygen levels. She then takes a mini light, lifts his eyelids one at a time and checks the pupils. She gives an even bigger smile because they are reactive to the light.

Cuddy stands by the top of the bed and gives House a smile. "We should be able to take it out soon. Your stats are stable so all you need to do is come back to us. Julie has been here, too." Cuddy tells Wilson in a soft, encouraging voice.

House is silent for a moment then says, "We'll be back, Buddy."

"He's asleep. Come on, you need to get back to bed yourself, House." The two leave the room and walk back toward the elevator in silence.

Cuddy isn't sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing – House being quiet. He's either deep in thought with relief now that Wilson is back or he's pissed because she hasn't told him Wilson was in a coma for the past two days. As the door opens they get on and Cuddy presses the 'L' for her office and '3' for House's room.

He looks over at her and suddenly grabs his side. "House, are you okay?" she asks as he almost falls to the floor but catches the bar with his left hand just in time.

"Sharp…pain…," he groans. She puts her arm around him to get him steady on his feet and the door opens on the 3rd floor. She helps walk him to his room and he easily sits on the bed. Almost immediately he straightens up and gives her a big, faked smile.

"Wha…?" she asks confused.

"I needed to talk to you."

She glares at him, puts her hands on her hips and says as she shakes her head, "You couldn't have just told me you wanted to talk to me?"

Seeming to ignore her question he asks rather harshly, "Why didn't you tell me Wilson was in a coma?" She hesitates and he knows she is just buying time to think. "Yeah, that's right, I knew. Julie told me."

"I didn…didn't think you needed the stress."

"Stress? You mean like the stress I'm in _now_ because you didn't have the common courtesy to tell me?"

"No, it's just…I don't know," she stammers.

"And why in the hell wouldn't you let me see Wilson? What is _wrong_ with you?" he says, starting to raise his voice.

"Look, lower your voice," she says more confidently than before. "At the time I thought it was for the best. I didn't do it to be cruel."

"I don't believe you. You didn't even want me in the same room with Wilson alone. Why?"

"I don't have to tell you."

"Yes, you do. I think I deserve that much."

It was then that House notices the tension grow in her body by her stance and she appears to be shaking slightly. He knows that he has finally pushed her too far, but he isn't going to back down; this concerns him and he needs answers.

She crosses her arms over her chest and says, in barely a whisper, "Because I've promised his parents."

His eyebrows crease and he asks, "You promised them _what_?"

"House, they don't know why Wilson was on your bike but since it _was_ your bike they blame you for what happened to him."

"What? I wasn't the one behind the wheel that hit him!" he yells loudly.

Cuddy takes a deep breath, walks to a wall and leans against it. "They know enough about you to know that you asked Wilson to do something for you since you were shot, and I know it's just because they're stressed and concerned about their son but it's enough for them to know that they don't want you anywhere near Wilson," she finally gets out in one long breath.

"No, no, that's a crock. Give me a break."

"I'm sorry, it's true. You didn't know his parents were here - Chase, Foreman and Cameron didn't even know. And his parents wanted…want it that way. You are still prohibited to visit him until further notice."

"Cuddy, God, you can't do that to me," he cries out. "I was the one that brought him out of it, NOT his parents!"

Cuddy pushes herself off the wall and walks toward him on the bed, putting her hand on his shoulder to comfort him. He briskly pulls it away. "House, you know if there was anything I could do I would, but I can't. My hands are tied, legally."

House doesn't look at her as he pushes himself back on the bed and lies down while slowly crossing his right leg over his left. "I'll have a nurse in to reinsert the I.V. You are still dehydrated." House doesn't respond as Cuddy, depleted of all her strength, turns and walks out of the room.

She walks into the ladies room down the hall, enters an empty stall, throws herself against the side of it and explodes in an outburst of hot, heavy, emotional and regretful tears. After several minutes she is still crying and so hard so that she starts to hyperventilate. She doesn't hear any noise resonating in the bathroom to indicate she isn't alone, which is good because she continues to cry and let out her own frustrations and stress, aside from the fact she hasn't slept much the past two days.

Fifteen minutes have passed and Cuddy composes herself enough to leave the stall. She has stopped crying but now her eyes are incredibly swollen and her nose is completely stopped up. She opens the stall door with her head down and walks toward a sink. She turns on the cold water and splashes her face with it.

Her eyes are closed and she turns to grab a paper towel when she feels a towel floating in the air, and as she reaches out for it she feels a hand. She pats her face gently, and when she removes the towel and opens her eyes, she sees Cameron standing before her.

"How…how long have you been in here?" she asks, crumples the towel and throws it in the trash.

"The past ten minutes. I was going to see House when I needed to pop in here, first. Are you okay?"

Cuddy doesn't answer her right away but only looks at her. "Yeah, I'm just a little tired."

Cameron frowns a little and says, "I don't believe you."

Cuddy starts to feel the tears build up again as he fights them back. "I hate that I can't have House see Wilson and I hate that Wilson is even _in_ here and I hate seeing Julie with Wilson and…and…"

Cameron is silent for a moment then says, "Dr. Cuddy, you've worked with House long enough to learn a few things from him, right? Have you thought about maybe sneaking House in to his room?"

"I…I can't do that, not against his parents wishes. It's a legal matter."

"But Wilson is conscious now. If you can prove that he is completely out of his coma and able to make medical decisions on his own, his parents don't have a _ground_ to stand on," Cameron says smartly, and very proud of herself for thinking it in the first place.

Cuddy's eyes widen at the idea. "Cameron? Why would you even suggest something like that, especially after our little 'spat' earlier?"

Cameron shrugged her shoulders, looks her dead in the eyes and says, "Because, I've learned something the past few days." She hesitates a moment. "You were right about House. And Chase has always been there for me. I think, maybe, oh, I don't know for sure yet…"

"Cameron," Cuddy says with a small smile, "I think you and Chase _should _start dating!"

And the two women walk out of the bathroom as if they've been pals for years, and the words they exchanged before has suddenly been erased, forgotten, filed away in the 'done deal-never to be mentioned again' cabinet.


	19. The Unexpected Phone Call

**Please let me know if I've conjured up any questions you may have. :o)**

**CHAPTER NINETEEN – The Unexpected Phone Call**

Later that night around eight, House is lying awake in bed after having a good, much needed two hour sleep and watching t.v. Well, the t.v. is on but he's not really watching it. In his mind he's going over what Cuddy told him earlier about Wilson's parents; he's been doing a lot of thinking lately. He's always liked Wilson's parents and can't understand why they would prevent him from seeing their son. But he is confident that Cuddy will take care of it; she's never left him down before.

His thoughts are interrupted when he hears the sliding door to his room slide open and turns to see Cameron, Chase and Foreman walk in. He frowns at them but tries to hide a smile.

"What are you guys doing here so late? Got a patient you can't diagnose?" he asks hopefully.

"Yes. You, House," Foreman says with a smile.

"No use beating a dead horse with a stick, er, uh, cane," Chase jokes, and that makes House smile.

"Touche, Chase. How's Wilson?" he asks fidgeting on the bed trying to get his legs comfortable.

"He's better," Cameron answers. "Dr. Marsden was just in with him and he was taking him off the respirator." House nods. "Is there anything we can get you before we leave for the night?"

"Where's Cuddy? Isn't she his attending doctor?"

"Oh, she still is. She went home after she left your room a couple of hours ago," Cameron answers.

House frowns at her and she can see his brain cells churning inside his head. "How do you know she was here? You haven't been here since this morning," he asks accusingly.

"Oh, I ran into her in the ba…hallway. She hasn't slept much and was exhausted. I told her we'd check in on you before we left tonight," Cameron says but House catches her slip of the tongue but doesn't say anything.

"Yeah, regardless of the fact that I had a date tonight and I had to disappoint her and cancel it," Foreman states.

"Oh, don't worry, Foreman. I'm sure she would have been disappointed more if you _kept_ the date," House says and Chase snickers, which results in Foreman giving him a dirty look.

"Well, it's good to see you haven't lost your sense of humor," Foreman says back.

Just then the phone rings but House ignores it. "Don't you think you should get that?" Cameron asks.

"Nah, it's just a bill collector," he retorts. The phone continues to ring.

"We should be going, really," Foreman interjects. "We'll see you tomorrow." The three leave the room.

The phone still continues to ring. House sighs, looks at it then reluctantly picks it up. "Hello?"

"Hi, Greg. How are you feeling?"

"Oh, great, Mom. Did you get Dad to the airport to catch the flight?" he asks, hoping against all hope that he has.

"Yes, yes. He really wanted to come and see you before he left but with all the rain we've had back home he was worried about draining the sump pump. You know how your father can be."

'_Yeah, I do,'_ he thinks snottily to himself.

There is a moment of silence before Blythe asks, "Have they told you when you can come home?"

"Dr. Nguyen says day after tomorrow. You know, you don't have to stay with me, Mom. I'll have a nurse…"

"Gregory, I wouldn't even _think_ about that! You're my son, aren't you? I can even make that brisket you like so much."

House's stomach churns a little then has to smile. He loves his mom, even though sometimes he doesn't let himself know it, OR her. "Ok. I know I'll lose debating with you. I'd like to spend time with you," he says as he tries to convince himself.

"Ok, you get some sleep, honey. I love you."

"Love you, too, Mom," House says as he places the phone in the cradle.

He lies back in bed and tries to relax to sleep, but he can't. He had that two hours' sleep and thinks that's what is keeping him awake. He closes his eyes and while his body gels out on him his mind is completely wired. He waits about an hour before he presses the button for the nurse to bring him a sedative.

A few minutes after the nurse leaves and he finally feels groggy enough to fall asleep peacefully. That is until the phone rings and jerks him back to reality. He irately reaches for the phone and rather bitterly says, "What?"

"Oh, uh, sorry. I thought I was calling the _nice_ patient," says the female voice.

A wave of nausea roils in his stomach at hearing her voice. It is the one voice he isn't expecting to hear, rather the one voice he _doesn't _want to hear. "Oh, he's in room 412," he says, relaxing back down comfortably.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm so tired of everyone asking me that," he says with a little sigh.

"It's not every day that you're shot, either, which in itself is something to ponder," she says. He thinks he can detect a smile on her lips; he always could, though. "I heard from Lynn about Wilson and called Cuddy. Think I woke her up, though."

"Yeah, I've been wearing her out," he snickers, starting to sound sleepy and slurring his words.

"Oh, I'm sure you have. You need to stop throwing the bed pan at her!" she orders but then laughs, and he joins in on the friendly bantering, although his eyes are closed.

An awkward moment of silence is shared between the two as both are at a loss for words, specifically over the fact that he is where he is.

"Well, I just wanted to say hello and I hope you feel better soon," she says honestly.

"Thanks. I'll be fine," he tells her.

"Yes, no doubt. Take care of your self," she says.

"I will. Bye, Stacy."

House hangs up the phone and throws his head heavily on the pillow. _'Ok, now this sucks. Now I _know_ I'm not gonna get any sleep _now_.'_

But within minutes he slowly drifts off to sleep, a peaceful sleep for a change.

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Ok, folks! Here's a preview of what we'll see in the next few chapters: House and Wilson become roommates, House goes home to recoup and Chase and Cam marry…I mean date. :o)


	20. Deja Vous

**CHAPTER TWENTY - Deja Vous**

Cuddy came in to the hospital at 4 a.m. the following morning to check on Wilson. Since she went home earlier the night before she hasn't had a chance to talk to Wilson yet, not that she really wants to but feels she needs to. She knows Wilson has the right to make the decision about whether he wants to see House or not, _not_ his parents. She wouldn't do that to him, or to House for that matter.

She quietly walks in the room, places a clipboard with some papers on a nearby chair and approaches his bed. She's surprised to find him with his eyes open and staring out the window but he hasn't focused on her yet. She checks the monitors and is satisfied he is out of critical condition. She doesn't say a word to him; she waits for him to acknowledge her. It was a good five minutes before he does so.

"What are you doing here so early? he mumbles, although he still stares out the window.

"Can't sleep."

"You can't lie, either," he tells her as he looks at her for the first time.

"I know Dr. Singh has confirmed there are no lingering ill effects from the concussion. Since you are no longer in critical condition, I need to know something." Cuddy takes a deep breath before she continues. "I'm sure you know how your parents feel about House and they've requested he not see you."

Wilson nods his head. "I know," he says sadly.

"Legally, they are no longer responsible for any medical decisions regarding your condition." Wilson nods his head. "What I need is for you to acknowledge that fact in order for me to deny your parents medical proxy."

"I know. I'm a doctor, too. What is you really want to know? Whether I want to see House?"

"In a nutshell, yes," she tells him softly.

Wilson is thoughtful a moment before he says, "I know my parents are mad at him, and in a way I think I should be, too. Cuddy, we've got to do something about him now. He's doing morphine. Did you know that?"

She looks at him surprised. "No, I didn't. How bad?"

"Bad enough to send me on a 'hide the drugs from the parents' mission. And that in itself is enough for me to be angry. But I can't. He needs help, and he almost killed me. Who else is he going to kill?" he says with a bit of a viperous tone.

"First, you and House need to get out of here and get back to normal, whatever 'normal' is. We'll address it then." Wilson looks at Cuddy with sadness, loss and confusion in his eyes before he closes them tightly. "James, we've tried it before. We can try it again. But for now, you need sleep."

He nods his head slightly. "But I want to know, do you want to be put in the same room as House?" she finally asks.

Wilson's eyes flutter open at her question. "Do you really think that's a good idea?"

"It'll only be for a day; he's being released tomorrow afternoon."

"That's a day and a half," he says half-heartedly then closes his eyes again.

"Close enough. But before you go to sleep I need you to sign these papers," she says as she walks to the chair she previously laid the clipboard on.

"What is it? The 'I'm sane enough to make my own decisions' or...," Wilson takes in a deep breath of air as a sudden pain surges through his body. "Or an 'I'm insane enough to be House's roommate again?'"

"Well, uh, both," she says as she hands him the board and a pen.

He looks over the wording and agrees to its contents then signs it; the board is shaking in his hands and Cuddy is concerned the pain is starting to get to a breaking point for him. When he's done signing it he hands the board to her and closes his eyes, seeming to her to have resigned all his strength and will to the pain, reaches his fingers of his right hand out and presses the button to administer a shot of morphine.

"Are you taking that for the pain you're in now or the pain you'll be in when you're with House?" Cuddy asks, trying to make a joke.

It works and Wilson gives her a weak smile. "Both." And within a few seconds he drifts off to sleep.

Cuddy stands beside his bed and stares at him a few minutes. She's relieved he has improved, and so quickly at that. She leaves his room, looks at her watch and sees it's only 4:30 a.m. _'Darn, the cafeteria doesn't open until 6:00. I need coffee,' _she thinks to herself. _'Maybe I can check on House.'_

She continues to the elevator to go down one more floor where his room is. She says hello to the nurse on duty at her station and then reads over House's chart of the past several hours. _ 'Well, for a bullet wound in the neck and losing a spleen, he, too, is improving rather well,' _she thinks to herself as she heads off to his room.

She is relieved to find him sleeping because she just isn't in the mood to talk to him, yet; she needs her coffee first. She stands over him and watches him sleep, too, just like Wilson. There was always something fascinating about watching a man sleep. She figures it's the only time one gets to check out every nuance of a man's face: his frown lines, the curvature of his face, the appearance of new freckles.

He stirs in his sleep and Cuddy holds her breath but soon realizes he isn't going to wake up. "Coffee," she says out loud, "I need coffee." She smiles knowing House is resting comfortably and turns to leave to head back to her office.

House lies in bed pretending to be asleep until he knows for sure that Cuddy has indeed left. _'Damn leg! I thought that spasm of pain was going to clue her in that I was awake. Damn, I'm good!' _he thinks, snickers to himself and presses the button to release the much needed (mentally or physically?) pain relief of the morphine.

House soon drifts off to sleep to the squawks of waking birds from the branches of the trees outside his room window.

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Later that morning House is awakened by a sudden, irritating noise in the room; it sounds like the high pitched squeak of rusty wheels. He curses to himself but doesn't open his eyes.

_'I wanted a private room,'_ he thinks to himself. He hears the curtain being drawn between the two beds and tries to go back to sleep, but he hears the orderlies talking to the patient and it's keeping him awake. He sighs and repositions himself on the bed.

"Ok, the nurse will be in in just a few minutes," House hears one of the orderlies say as they wheel the empty gurney past the end of his bed and out of the room.

_'I've got to talk to Cuddy to get him _out_ of here,' _he tells himself as he drifts back to sleep.

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	21. Error In Judgment

-1**I want to thank everyone for their great reviews and comments. I hope I have satisfied everyone's 'I need to see this…' :o) Anyway, more later. **

**CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE - Error in Judgment**

It's 9:30 a.m. and Foreman walks into the conference room. He doesn't say hello to Chase and Cameron who are sitting at the table, rather closely he notices but doesn't let it show. He puts his duffle bag on a chair, goes to the coffee machine and sees it's empty.

"Why in the hell isn't there any coffee?" he snaps.

His two colleagues look up at him startled at his outburst. "What's _your_ problem, boss?" Chase asks sarcastically.

"I thought my 'there's no coffee' comment pretty much explained it all," he answers, loudly making a fresh pot.

"Foreman, what's wrong?" Cameron asks alarmed.

"Yeah, we thought you'd just _love_ being in House's shoes again," Chase says. Cameron gives him a dirty look to shut him up.

He sighs, stares at the ceiling and walks to the table, pulls out a chair and sits down. "I'm sorry, guys. Heard from my dad last night."

Foreman doesn't want to tell them about his mom, who's in an institution with Alzheimer's, but he realizes he can't let his frustrations out on them. He tells them briefly they reason why his mother didn't visit him with his dad when he was sick. "The past week Mom's not been doing well, and they've had to...to tie her down to her bed."

They sit silent for a moment then Cameron says, "You know it's for her own protection."

"Of course I do. It's just, I always thought she'd come back..."

"And that's why you supported Vogler, at first, anyway," Chase states, "because of his own family history of Alzheimer's. I'm sorry, Foreman."

"Excuse me, Dr. Foreman," a nurse says as she sticks her head in the doorway. "There's a patient downstairs that needs to talk to you."

"Isn't Smithers here, yet?" Foreman asks.

"Yes, she is, but she asked that she speak to you."

Foreman grumbles something about not having any coffee yet and walks out.

"Well, that was strange," Chase says as he stands to refill his own coffee cup. "I'll make sure to leave him some next time."

"Chase, I've been thinking...," Cameron says but Chase interrupts her.

"You want a cup, too?"

She tells him no as she waits for him to sit down so she can finally say what she should have said a long time ago. "What have you been thinking?" Chase asks.

She takes a hard swallow and says, "Want to get dinner and a movie one weekend? I mean, after House and Wilson are better and we're back in our normal routine?" she asks, almost in one long rambling sentence.

Chase smiles but then it gradually disappears before he asks, "Does that mean House is out of the picture?"

She looks at him perplexed. "What do you mean? Now I take back the offer."

"No, no. I didn't mean it that...look, I heard how pissed you were when you saw Cuddy and House in the hospital bed together. Nice, by the way. But I want to make sure that, uh, you are serious about going out, and not for some _diversion_ while House is cooped up."

"Is that what you think?" she asks flabbergasted.

"Well, honestly, yeah."

Cameron stands up and Chase instantly regrets what he's just said. She paces back and forth while she gets her thoughts together, all the while he is holding his breath.

"No, no, I mean, nothing serious at first, just dinner. Or, maybe just coffee now," she says seriously. When she sees fear build in his face she starts to laugh. "Okay, sorry. I was teasing. But, still, I don't think there's anything wrong with it."

Chase leans back in his chair happier than a Koala eating eucalyptus leaves, even happier than a clown fish swimming through an anemone.

"Okay, sure." Cameron smiles back at Chase.

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Cuddy has just woken up from sleeping on her couch in her office and is shocked how late it is, and more surprised that no one had bothered her yet. She sits up and leans forward, putting her face in her hands. She has never felt so exhausted in her life, well, there was med school when she was up for three days straight but that didn't count; this exhaustion is more emotional than it is physical.

She slowly gets up and walks to her desk, pulls a folder toward her to read through but she can't concentrate. Wilson being in House's room and the impending confrontation with Wilson's parents are weighing on her mind too much to think straight. She sighs, stands and walks out of her office.

She sees a woman standing outside exam room three yelling at Foreman. Cuddy stands, watches and listens for a moment.

"You had me on antibiotics for a YEAR before you sent me to the ENT, who had me spend $350 on a mouth guard for TMJ, which I DON'T have. You've had me on antidepressants for two years because I'd be crying in your office because I'd been feeling miserable and you always attributed it to depression! It's arthritis in my cervical spine! I've been in pain for almost TWO years and an ENT found it!" The woman is screaming at the top of her lungs and Foreman just stands there in silence.

"I want to talk to your supervisor, NOW!" she demands.

With that it prompts Cuddy to get a handle on the situation. "I'm Dr. Cuddy, Dean of this hospital. What seems..."

The woman goes on her rant again, which Cuddy had already heard. She turns to Foreman and tells him she'll handle the patient as she escorts the woman back to her office.

_'And just when I thought it was going to be a quiet day,'_ she thinks to herself.

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House is still sleeping peacefully in his bed while the nurse checks on his neck and stomach wounds, gently removing the adhesive pad and looking for any possible signs of infection. When she's satisfied there is none she checks on the I.V. insertion site to make sure it hasn't been loosened over the past few hours.

She must have accidentally moved the needle out of position because he grunts in his sleep and turns his head to the source of the pain but doesn't open his eyes. The nurse doesn't say anything, though, as she replaces some items back on the tray and leaves the room. After the rude interruption from the nurse he slowly becomes awake and hears his 'roommate' snoring softly behind the curtain.

"Will you shut UP!" he barks.

House hears a few mumbles coming from the man but can't make out what he's saying. He's only hoping he's stirred in his sleep enough to stop the 'insufferable' snoring. House hears a beep and recognizes it as the nurse call button. _'Oh, poor baby. He can't handle the pain,' _he thinks to himself nastily.

Another nurse walks into the room, passes by the opened curtain at the foot of House's bed and can see the side of the curtain rustle from her brushing against it.

"How are you feeling, Dr. Wilson?" the nurse asks.

House never does hear the answer because he's in shock at learning that his best friend is in the same room as him and they'll be roommates again.

He smiles wickedly as he thinks to himself, _'Oh, the possibilities! Just like the med school dorm.'_


	22. Tigger Gets Trapped

Ok, I was busted on the last sentence in the last chapter and am just TOO lazy to go back and fix it. House is tickled he and Wilson are roommates cuz he can be as juvenile as he was while Wilson was at his apartment, NOT while they were in med school.

The point I was trying to make was he was more juvenile in med school and played pranks on other students…although he IS kinda juvenile now, isn't he:o)

And to further explain the rants of the woman who was fussing at Foreman – that is actual medical experience that I am going through now. Well, except the passing out part. Anyway, she'll be explained a bit more thoroughly in the next chapter.

Thanks for the awesome reviews and keeping me in line.

**CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO – Tigger Gets Trapped**

"Jimmy? Jimmy!" House says from his bed trying to get Wilson's attention.

"Please, Dr. House, he needs his rest," the nurse tells him somewhat perturbed that he has the gall to bother him.

"Oh, he'll be getting plenty of rest the next few weeks. I'm bored," he whines through the curtain.

"Heddd hurtzz," House barely makes out from Wilson and becomes a little troubled. It might just mean he is still suffering from the concussion.

"You've got a morphine drip here if you need it. If the pain gets worse holler for me, okay?" she says pleasantly.

House rolls his eyes; he _hates _bedside manners. _'Just because they're sick doesn't mean you have to be nice to them,' _he thinks to himself.

He hears the nurse move around to the foot of his own bed and she suddenly appears. "And how are _you_ feeling today, Dr. House? How's your neck feel?"

"Great! I'm ready to play some rounds of golf," he says sarcastically but the nurse ignores him.

"Well," she says as she adjusts a few knobs on the monitor, "I know all about you and I think my shift will go by quickly and smoothly if you just keep your snide little comments to yourself."

House squints his eyes at her and says, "I'm not going to like you, am I?"

"It's okay if you don't, I don't like you, either. I'm just doing my job," she answers with a smile then turns to leave.

"Hey, can you please open the curtain?" House asks sweetly, and it almost kills him to do so.

She turns back around and thinks for a second before she grabs the top of the curtain and pulls it to the head of both beds. "One complaint from him and it goes back," she says, giving him an 'I dare you' glance before she walks out of the room.

House looks at Wilson who has his head turned away from him so he can't see his face. "Jimmy?" House says, continuing his banter, or more like abuse of his roommate. Wilson doesn't turn his head.

"Don't _make_ me get up," House says playfully.

At that non-existent threat Wilson turns his head toward House and stares at him for a minute. House is stunned when he sees tears in Wilson's eyes and the side of his cheek is wet with tears.

"Wilson? Is the pain that bad? Did you do the morphine?" House asks, almost caringly.

"Yeah, head hurts," he says more clearly than before to the nurse then closes his eyes.

House softly sighs and tells Wilson, "Get some sleep, buddy." There's no word from Wilson but as House stares at him he sees his respiration grows shallower and knows he has gone to sleep. House shuts up and actually lets him.

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"Ms. Vaughn, Dr. Foreman _is_ a good doctor. It was an unfortunate oversight," Cuddy tells Bonnie Vaughn, the woman who was yelling at Foreman earlier in the hallway.

"'Unfortunate oversight?' Is that what you call it?" she says angrily.

"You have _got _to calm down, please. Have you seen the neurologist or orthopedic doctor yet?"

"No, I haven't. I just saw the ENT last week."

"Okay, let us do a thorough exam and we'll cover the cost," Cuddy suggests, hoping it will appease her but it backfires.

"You're joking, right! I've already _seen_ one of your doctors and _he_ couldn't even diagnose me correctly," she snips.

"Good point. Look, rest assured that I'll assign only the best doctors for your care. And I will personally keep a close eye on your case to make sure you are indeed receiving the best possible care."

Bonnie sits there a moment contemplating the offer and Cuddy notices the stress and anger seem to fade away from her face. Cuddy relaxes knowing she has succeeded in retribution. Bonnie stands then suddenly sways, holding her face in her hand and before Cuddy can even get close enough to catch her she collapses to the floor.

"GURNEY! I need a gurney in here!" she yells.

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'…_thirty two Angelina Jolies…thirty three Angelina Jolies…thirty four Angelina Jolies…'_

"Hi, Tigger." House hears from a familiarly comfortable and soft voice. He opens his eyes to see his mom standing there looking at him with a smile on her face. "Whatcha doin?" she asks as she bends over and kisses him on the forehead.

"Counting Angelina Jolies so I'd fall asleep," he tells her as he smirks slightly.

"Honey, are you having trouble falling asleep?"

"No, I'm sending out vibes to her so she'd have my baby, too. Here's your sign," he says sarcastically and Blythe smacks him on the forearm, hard.

"Don't _talk_ to me like that, Greg," she tells him sounding very upset. House frowns and knows he's just crossed the line with his mother, something he hasn't done since he was in high school; once was plenty for him to know where the line was.

"I'm sorry, Mom," he says sincerely. "It's just…there's a lot going on."

"I know that, son," she says as she pulls up a chair beside the bed and sits down. "How have you been feeling? Did you sleep well last night?"

House nods his head and shifts in the bed uncomfortably. "Have you found everything at my place you need?"

Blythe takes a deep breath before she says, "Yes, and a little more than I expected to find but nothing that I need; seems you do, though."

'_Oh, shit. Here it comes.'_

"Greg, how long have you been taking the morphine? Has the pain really been that bad?"

House nods his head silently, almost shamefully. "Yes, Mom, it has been."

"For how long?"

"Do we _really_ need to talk about this now?"

"Yes, we do."

"Look, if the Ketamine worked, which hasn't been determined yet, I won't need the morphine anymore. And I haven't been taking it here unless I absolutely need it, and that's only to help me sleep."

"I don't believe that for one _second_ you need morphine to help you sleep. There are other medications to take. Don't lie to me, Greg. Does Dr. Cuddy know?"

"Cuddy doesn't _need _to know."

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While House and his mother speak, Wilson feigns sleep to listen in on their conversation. And truth be told he doesn't feel guilty about it, either. In a way he's glad she's confronting him, but also feels a wee bit bad for him, although now he knows House is going to be more of a bear of a roommate than he _ever_ was while he stayed at House's apartment.


	23. Error in the OR

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE - Error in the O.R.

Cuddy has just left the exam room where Bonnie Vaughn had been after she collapsed in her office. She doesn't know what set her off but she is going to have it taken care of. She steps off the elevator and heads to the conference room where she knows the gang is, probably doing nothing. When she opens the door and looks at the three she is surprised that they each have a folder in front of them.

"Hey, guys. Glad to see you are keeping busy," she says as she walks in. Foreman looks up and Cuddy is taken aback by the expression on his face but she ignores it. "What are working on?"

"I'm taking a look at Bonnie Vaughn's history. You know the patient, the one you took care of." There was bitterness in Foreman's voice when he says that.

"I'm looking over House's," Cameron interjects as she looks back at the papers spread out in front of her.

"I don't know why you are looking at that. He's better now," Chase says.

"Well, you never know," she tells him.

"Foreman, Ms. Vaughn passed out in my office. I think there is something more going on with her," Cuddy tells him, which gets the attention of Chase and Cameron. "Can you get an MRI and some blood work on her?"

"Dr. Cuddy, she made it perfectly clear she doesn't want me as her doctor," Foreman objects.

"I know, but she's out now. She won't know."

"Why don't you have Chase or Cameron do it?"

"Foreman, that's just one lesson that you'll learn as you get more experience. I know you were doing clinic duty for House as your "initiation" and it happens to the best of doctors," Cuddy tells him.

"Wait, Dr. Cuddy," Cameron interrupts them. "Didn't you have House get the dose of Ketamine he requested?"

"Yes, I told Dr. Zhang; he did the surgery. Why?" Cuddy asks suddenly very worried.

"Because, according to his records, he never got it," Cameron stammers.

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Blythe is still in House's room trying to get House to talk to her about the morphine in his bedroom but he is not say a word about it.

"Mom, I just don't want to talk about it."

"Okay, so, I'm just supposed to stand by and wait for you to OD?" she asks incredulously.

House gives her a sharp look. "That won't happen."

"How do you know? It happened to Mick, remember?"

"I'm not Mick. Look, I don't want to do this right now. Besides, Wilson is trying to sleep," he says as he turns his head to look in his direction.

"Oh, you mean James is here with you? That's great – no, I don't mean great, just that you're in the same room. That should make for a quick recovery for the both of you," she says in a "Donna Reed" voice, a completely different voice, as if she hadn't just been chewing him out.

"Yeah, I need to wake him every 30 minutes just to make sure he is still breathing," House says as he closes his eyes.

"You better not! He needs his rest, Greg," Blythe says right before she gives a little laugh because she knows he's joking. "Speaking of rest, I'll leave you alone and let you get some. I need some fresh air." House nods his head but doesn't say anything. "I'll be back in a bit." And she leaves his room.

"Are you on restriction?" says a voice after a few moments of silence to make sure they are alone in the room.

"Nah. I'm never in trouble," House says as he slowly sits up, throws his legs over the side of the bed, stands and pulls the curtain open between them before he sits back down. "Well, you look a little better."

"Better than you," Wilson answers.

"Nah, I'm always this good looking and hotter than you, sick or not. How's your head?"

Wilson grunts a little before he says, "I don't know. Is it still attached?"

"Hey! Try to do the Linda Blair Exorcist head turn around and that'll tell us. That'd be cool to see!"

That got a little chuckle out of Wilson then he gasps as the pain ripped through his stomach from the internal bleeding. "Damn, my stomach is killing me," he groans.

"They had to do surgery to find where the bleed was," House tells him and Wilson nods then closes his eyes.

After a moment Wilson slowly pulls up the top sheet and looks down at his waist. He doesn't say anything but presses the nurse's call button repeatedly.

"Wilson, what's going on?" House asks as he suddenly hears the heart monitor blaringly beep a warning tone. House instantly knows his heart rate is dramatically and dangerously increasing while his blood pressure was steadily falling.

"I, uh, there's a lot of blood…," Wilson answers before his eyes roll in the back of his head and he loses consciousness.

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Several hours later House lies awake in bed worrying about Wilson; he's been in surgery since he discovered he had started to bleed out through his rectum. House knew that was a possibility but he had also been optimistic about that never happening.

His mother left an hour ago to call and check on John at home to see if their home had flooded. House was thankful for that because he wasn't in the mood to talk to his mother, not just about the morphine but to talk to her at all. She was always able to get him to talk. He'd teased her years ago that she should have been a detective because she has the ability to make people talk even if they don't want to. He loves him mother dearly, but he resents that motherly talent.

Cuddy walks into House's room quietly, hoping he is asleep but knowing he probably wouldn't be. House is indeed awake, staring out the window and hasn't noticed Cuddy walking in and standing on the other side of the bed.

"How is he?" House asks and Cuddy is taken aback that she is mistaken about him knowing she has come in.

"They've stopped the bleeding. There was a tear in his lower abdomen; that's what caused him to bleed out. He'll be fine." House doesn't answer but nods his head a little.

"House, there's something else I need to tell you," Cuddy says, holding her breath.

"Can't it wait?"

"No, not really. Have you noticed any relief in your leg since the surgery?" she asks.

"I still need the morphine so I'd say no. Why do you ask?"

"Dr. Zhang didn't give you the Ketamine," she tells him bluntly.

His eyes fly open then he sits up in bed. "WHAT?"


	24. The Deal Is On

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR – The Deal Is On

"Ms. Vaughn, please. We don't want to have to restra…," POW! Right in Cameron's left jaw. She doesn't loosen her grip on her but just gets a stronger hold on her.

For the past couple of minutes she and Chase have been trying to keep Bonnie Vaughn down on the table while they attempt to get an MRI scan. She's been screaming and cursing at them since she woke up from the mild sedation they put her under. Cameron is surprised she has come out of it so soon. But nonetheless they still have to wrangle with her to calm her down.

"Cameron – I'll hold her down while you call for help," Chase suggests then Cameron nods her head. "Okay, ready? One…two…three," Chase says before he gets a more solid grip on her for Cameron to let go.

She steps back and looks at Chase and the patient, making sure he does have a solid grip on her. Her hair is a mess, flowing down in strands that softly fall on her face and even with a trickle of blood beginning to flow from the corner of her mouth he thinks to himself, 'Wow, she's gorgeous.'

The next thing Chase knows is his thumb feels like it's breaking in two, like being ripped apart by a falcon's talon. He looks at his hand and sees his thumb is actually in her mouth and she's biting down on it.

"Damnit, Cameron, hurry up!" he says out loud, even though Cameron is no longer in the room.

He pulls his hand away from her mouth and gets a better grip on her and her body. Only another second passes and he hears the door opening and then two sets of feet hurriedly running towards him.

"I've got her, I've got her," Foreman says as he rushes across from Chase and holds the other side of her down.

"Cameron, you got the…," Chase starts to say but Cameron approaches them with a syringe and inserts the needle into the inside fold of her elbow.

The two men continue to hold her down until the drug has enough effect on Bonnie to keep her from fighting them. The three doctors stand back and wait for her to be completely sedated.

"God, what was that all about?" Foreman asks as he places his hands on his hips and tries to catch his breath.

"That's what we're trying to figure OUT, Foreman!" Cameron spits at him.

Chase notices that Cameron seems to be angry with Foreman but they have an objective: they have to get an MRI of Bonnie's C-Spine. "Ok, let's get this done and take her back to her room. I don't want her to accuse one of us of abusing her," Chase says as he turns and heads to the small computer room off the lab. 'Even if she actually abused me,' he thinks to himself.

Cameron turns to get Bonnie resettled on the MRI slab and Foreman offers to help her. "No! I've got it."

"Cameron, I told you, I didn't realize how bad it was in here," Foreman defends himself.

She turns back around to him and gives him a dirty look before she walks through the computer room door.

"I'd get out of there if I were you, Foreman," Chase says through the intercom.

"No, let him stay in there while we start the MRI," Cameron interjects. "We'll say we were doing an experiment."

"Yeah, after you spend hours wiping my blood off the walls," he answers as he walks to join them.

Chase starts pressing a few buttons to start the machine then says, "What happened between you two? Cameron, you were perfectly fine before you left to get help."

"The moron was standing right outside the door! He heard the whole thing but he didn't bother to come in," she says.

"Cameron, I told you! She doesn't want me in there with her. She wants another…," Foreman says before Chase interrupts him.

"Guys, we have a little more important issue, here," he tells them without looking at them. "What do you see, there, on the C-4 vertebrae?" he asks them as he points to the MRI monitor.

"Oh, God," Cameron yelps.

"HA! I KNEW it wasn't me!" Foreman exclaims as both Chase and Cameron look him over. "What? I knew there was a reason why she had gotten so out of control," he says with a smile. "That tumor on the C-4 is pushing the nerve out of alignment…and there, it's forcing that part up into her neck. Get a head scan while she's out. The C-1 is pressing into her brain."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"What exactly do you MEAN I was never given the Ketamine!" House yells at Cuddy.

"House, calm down. You can't get yourself all worked up over this," she tells him calmly.

"Don't tell ME to calm down. That's all I asked for…wait, did Cameron tell you I asked for it?"

"Yes, House, yes, she did. And I told Dr. Zhang, personally. He never said anything about it afterward and it never dawned on me…"

"Never DAWNED on you? Do people not do what I ask just to piss me off or WHAT?" he screams at her.

"We can still give it to you," she says, hoping that will calm him down.

"It's…no, not now."

"Why not? There's no reason we can't."

"Forget it! Since everyone just LOVES to have control over my life, fine! Let them."

"House, you are being totally irrational about this." He looks at her, really looks at her then looks away, almost shamefully, before he settles back down on the bed.

"Think about it, okay?" she says before she turns and heads for the door.

"Cuddy?" he calls out for her, "Fine. Do it. This weekend, when the triplets are off."

She smiles weakly at him then walks out.

House, on the other hand, continues to lie in bed for the next hour before complete exhaustion invades his entire body and he no longer has the strength to force himself awake.

'Control of my own life…that's all I ask…all I've ever asked…,' House thinks to himself before he drifts off to sleep.


	25. Medical Crisis Solved

-1_Okay, here is the new chapter I promised. A little boring, but I had to take care of Bonnie. But I promise, the next chapter will be GREAT! hehehehe_

_Now, if anyone has any ideas or suggestions, I'd be open to hearing them. I'm covering Chase and Cameron for those of you that LOVE them together. _

_Thanks to all for reading and leaving your comments. :o)_

**CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE** – Medical Crisis Solved

Drs. Chase, Cameron and Foreman walk into the conference room and the three collapse into chairs around the table.

"Man, what time is it?" Chase asks as he yawns loudly and stretches his arms over his head.

Foreman looks at his watch and tells them 6:30. He then closes his eyes and leans back into the chair.

"Foreman, it wasn't your fault you didn't catch the tumor; it could have been a slow growing one," Cameron tells him, trying to be reassuring.

He simply shakes his head and reaches across the table for Bonnie's medical file. He opens it and slowly reads over every single notation and comment. After a few minutes of silence between them Chase stands up and announces he's going home.

"Wait, Chase," Foreman says. "The ENT took the MRI last week and only diagnosed the arthritis. He never mentioned the tumor, right? Then how could it have grown so fast?"

"The tumor is small; there's now telling how long it's been there. It might have grown only noticeably the past week," Chase suggests.

"That's highly unlikely, Chase," Foreman tells him. "Where's the...oh, here they are."

He stands and plops two x-rays into a board on the wall and turns on a light. He reviews it over for several seconds. Cameron stands and stops beside him, also looking over the x-ray thoroughly.

"Oh, this is crazy, I'm going home," Chase says exasperatedly as he heads for the door again.

"No, wait, Chase," Cameron says right before he reaches for the door. He turns and looks at her. "Come here."

He grumbles under his breath then heads towards them. As he gets closer he looks at the two x-rays and compares them. They stand examining them for almost five minutes when a voice startles them and they jump.

"One of these films is NOT like the other," House sings loudly as he limps into the conference room, leaning on his cane and pulling the I.V. stand beside him. He slowly reaches the chair and sits down.

"House! What are you doing here? You should be in bed!" Cameron states very firmly.

"I was bored. I wanted to go roller skating but my skates are at home. Uh, Chase, will you go get them for me? Oh, wait, I should be in bed? Why, Dr. Cameron, is that an invitation?" House asks flirtatiously.

"House, knock it off," Chase hisses at House, while Cameron gives Chase a dirty look. "The man never lets up!"

Immediately House's brows furrow as his eyes dart back and forth from Chase to Cameron a few times. A half-grin crosses his lips then he says, "Chase, I'm impressed. You're standing up for your woman. Nice."

Foreman desperately tries to change the subject, although honestly he's enjoying the beating Chase and Cameron are getting from their boss. "What did you mean when you said, 'One of these films is not like the other?'"

"Exactly what I said," House replies. "There's one little subtle difference between the two that all three of you missed." The three look at each other before they look back at the x-rays.

House gets a wicked grin on his face, slowly stands and heads to his office towards his desk. He stands behind the desk, pulls out headphones and a set of keys from the drawer to his left, sets the headphones on the desk, puts the key in the top drawer and pulls out his MP3 player.

He briefly glances up at the three, who are still standing where he left them, before he heads back in and sits in the same chair he just left.

After five minutes House sighs and asks exasperatedly, "Find it, yet?"

Cameron takes a closer look, berating herself that she hasn't found what House is referring to yet.

"Oh, wait," Chase says, pointing to the x-ray on the right. "C-6 vertebrae - it's…"

"Bingo," House says satisfied.

"There's a minor fissure there but it's not on this one," Cameron interrupts as she points to the x-ray on the left.

"Wonder how that happened?" House asks sarcastically.

Foreman turns and looks at House. "It's not the same patient, is it? That's why the tumor wasn't detected the first time."

House smiles at his three prodigies. "Exactamoondo! Wow, I have hope for you three after all!"

"DR GREGORY HOUSE! Get back in your room this instant!" Cuddy blares so loudly House jumps and reaches for the I.V. stand, thinking the shrill of her voice was the stand crashing to the floor.

"Wow, nice bedside manner, Dr. Lisa Cuddy!" House retorts as he puts his hands on the arm rests to stand.

He suddenly feels dizzy and Cuddy takes a few steps towards him and reaches her arm out but he ignores it and eventually stands.

"I cannn doooo it," House objects jokingly as he slowly walks to the door.

"Fine, Stuart. Get moving," Cuddy continues to fuss at him.

"House, what are we supposed to tell Bonnie Vaughn?" Cameron asks before House walks completely through the door.

"Tell her she needs an operation."

The door closes behind Cuddy and House and the three look at each other blankly.

"Duh, I could have figured that one out," Cameron says with a snit.

"Well, you had to ask," Foreman says as he grabs his duffel bag and heads for the door himself. "I'm outta here. See you two Monday."

Chase turns to look at Cameron as the door closes behind Foreman. "What! Don't tell me you're taking his side?" she stammers.

"Uh, no, actually, I was going to ask if you want to catch a bite, maybe a movie?"

Cameron contemplates the offer momentarily then says, "Only if you let me get dessert."

"Done," Chase says with a smile.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"Well, are you ready for this weekend?" Cuddy asks as they head for the elevator.

"Oh, did we have a hot date I forgot about?" House asks as they step on.

She gives him a smirk. "You wish. No, I mean the Ketamine. First thing in the morning. That's why I went to hunt you down. It's going to be a long weekend."

"Yeah, I know. But if I wasn't hooked up with this I.V. it'd be the longest and most memorable weekend of your life," House jokes as they step off and head to his room.

"Seriously, House. Are you up for it?" she asks before they enter the room.

He stops, turns and gives her a very serious look. "No, I'm not. But I have nothing to lose, do I?"

"Well, that's true. Now get your butt in bed. I've got to go home and pack a few things," Cuddy says as she helps him get into bed.

"Where are you going?" House asks seriously as he settles into bed and lets out a long, loud yawn.

"Actually, nowhere. I'm staying here. Who did you think was going to stay with you?"

"Angelina?" he says hopefully as he closes his eyes.

"You wish. See you tomorrow," she says as she pats him on the shoulder and turns to leave.

"Cuddy?" She turns back to face him. "Thanks," he says, still with his eyes closed.

She smiles. "You're welcome."


	26. New Beginnings or New Ends

**Ok, so I lied! I'm sooo sorry! Lol I needed to build up the night before the Ketamine weekend party for House cuz I like 'continuitiness' in my stories. **

**And a special thanks to AtredesHeir for the little Melting Pot party:o)**

**Hope you enjoy! Jazy**

**HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD**

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX **– New Beginnings or New Ends?

A few hours later, Cameron stands in front of the mirror in her bathroom making sure every piece of hair was in the right place. Ten minutes later she gets so fed up when one strand won't cooperate that she ends up putting it in a ponytail with a clip in the back. Then panic sets in when she realizes Chase will be at the door any minute; it took her longer in the shower than she planned on spending so her time is now very limited.

"Ugh, this is ridiculous, Allie! Why are you so nervous?" she asks herself out loud. "It's just Chase; it's not like it's a date with House…"

DINNNNG DONNNNG…The doorbell suddenly chimes as butterflies flitter more erratically in her stomach. She quickly spritzes on hairspray, flattens the wrinkles out of her blouse and heads to the door, still fiddling with her bangs. She reaches for the door, takes a deep breath, smiles then opens it. Chase is standing at the door with a small bouquet of flowers in his hands, also wearing a bright smile. She pulls the door wider for him to come in.

"They're beautiful, Chase," she says as he hands the bouquet to her and she accepts them. "Let me put them in water before we leave."

"There's a 10:30 showing of the new Pirates of the Caribbean but I made 8:45 reservations at the Melting Pot. We won't have time to do both. The dinner itself will take two hours at least. I hope you are hungry," he calls out to her from the living room.

"Oh, that fondue place? Great," she answers as she comes back out with the flowers in a vase and sets them on the coffee table. "I've always wanted to go there. We can do the movie another time. That's fine. Ok, I'm ready."

The two leave her apartment and as they drive to the restaurant Cameron can't help but be more and more nervous, although she still has no idea why. Chase feels the tension but decides to keep quiet and wait for Cameron to talk to him; she remains quiet and continues to stare out the side window.

They arrive at the Melting Pot and are seated side by side in a secluded table in a corner. Cameron starts to object but then berates her self for being so stupid about it; it was just a date, after all. They'd even spent the night together, one she regretted, the other she didn't. She loved that he stayed with her and didn't try anything; she would have kicked him out if he did. She never did thank him properly for doing that.

They both watch their waiter in awe as he pours bowls of cheese, ale and herbs in the steaming hot fondue pot and then expertly blend the mixture together. The waiter leaves and again they share an awkward silence before Chase takes a fondue stick, pushes a piece of white bread onto the two spikes and brushes the bread lightly across the top of the cheese fondue.

Cameron does the same but completely dips the entire bread to the bottom of the pot, removes it then twirls the stick until no more cheese melts off before placing it in her mouth. She groans acceptance at the taste of the mixture of cheese and ale; she doesn't care too much for alcohol in her food (she much prefers it straight from the bottle on really bad days).

"How are your toes?" Chase asks after they've each had a few cubes of bread, carrots and Granny Smith apple pieces. "I've noticed you are hardly walking with any limp at all. I can't believe you didn't break any. But I'm sure you enjoyed wearing your sneakers. Nike?"

Cameron nods her head. "Still sore but they're fine," she answers quickly, almost too hastily.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"Wilson!" a loud, whiney outburst hollers from the bed next to him. "Willie! Come out and play with Greggie Pooh!"

Wilson takes a slow, deep breath and tries to pretend he's still asleep, just as he's been doing the past hour. House has long since crossed Wilson's patience threshold.

First, House's Mom came in to tell him since he will be in good care with Cuddy over the weekend she is going home to check on a few things but will be back on Tuesday. At first he balked at the idea but Blythe would have none of that from her son. House made Cuddy promise not to tell his Mom exactly what they were doing that weekend and she obliged.

Secondly, after Blythe left and a few words from House trying to wake Wilson up again, he began singing to the tunes on his MP3 player. At first it was soft, quiet and on key, but then grew to rough, loud and completely awful.

"Annnnn IIIIIIIII will alwaaaaaays luuuv you-ewe!" House blares out the worst Whitney Houston he can muster, which is worse than Whitney singing after taking her daily intake of amphetamines, if that is at all imaginable.

"HOUSE! Shut UP!" Wilson shrieks.

"AHA! That's an all time record for you, Jimbo! You lasted 57 minutes. I'm sooo proud," House teases as he wipes his cheek for fake tears then looks at Wilson, who gives him a small grin.

"What time is it?" Wilson grunts.

"It's 10:30," House answers. "'Bout time you wake up."

"I don't wanna wake up," Wilson mutters.

"Are you a Toys-R-Us Kid, too? Kewl beans!" House grows serious then asks, "You know I'm doing the Ketamine tomorrow morning, right?"

Wilson nods his head. "Yeah...to the tomorrow thing - not the Toys-R-Us thing."

"Well, I'll be gone this weekend. You'll miss me," House tells him.

"No, I won't," Wilson replies.

"Oh, yes you will."

"Nope, sorry, I'm sure I won't miss you. I'll enjoy the peace and quiet."

"You can listen to my MP3…wait, no, you can't. You might break it. But you'll still miss me," House teases.

"No, I said I won't, now shut up."

"You say that way too much. And, YES you will." There is no playful reply from Wilson as House waits for a response which never comes. "Loser," House says, turns his head and closes his eyes.

'_I may be a loser but at least I'm not a dork. And I won that one, _dork_,'_ Wilson thinks to himself before he drifts off to sleep.

House doesn't fall asleep as quickly as Wilson does. Sure, his eyes may be closed but he is far from sleepy. Only several hours later, well after midnight, does he find all the energy drained from him and finally falls asleep.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Chase has just turned over with his back facing Cameron and he smiles when he feels her body press against his, her arm around his waist and her chin nestle against the back of his neck. He grabs her hand with his and gently squeezes it. The two never made it to dessert…

By the time the last piece of chicken had been eaten they couldn't eat another bite, regardless of how tempting the chocolate covered strawberries might have been. They'd gone back to Cameron's apartment and she made them coffee; well, she had coffee while she made Chase hot tea. They sat on the couch, neither one talking.

"Chase…"

"Allison…" The two laughed when they spoke at the same time.

"Robert, I didn't mean what I said last week."

He frowned at her. "What did you say last week?" he asked, playing dumb; he remembered every word.

"Uh, whatever I said when you came over and my toes married the bottom of my couch," she said with a laugh. "I am glad you stayed with me. Thanks."

Chase smiled at her but didn't want to press his luck by going in for a 'you're welcome' kiss.

He'd actually gotten to her at dinner when he started a sword fight with the Fondue sticks. That is until a small sliver of apple was knocked off the prong and flew to the table beside them. Both of their eyes flew open and neither one said anything at first. When the unsuspecting neighboring diners didn't say anything Chase and Cameron bust out laughing. And Chase couldn't resist her any longer.

"Uh, I think you have…," he started to say as he ran his thumb over a corner of her mouth until the dried sauce disappeared.

"Chaaaa…"

And then he went in for the kill, cutting off her words completely by pressing his lips against hers. Their kiss was sweet at first, growing with more passionate and intensity than either had felt between them. She slid her flat palm against his warm cheek and slowly pushed him away.

"Robert, would you be my dessert tonight?" she had asked, with a mischievous grin on her lips.

"CHECK!" he hollered out for the waiter…

Well after midnight, Chase and Cameron had finally exhausted each other out from their lovemaking and snuggled up to each other.

"'Night, Robert," Cameron whispers in his ear as she wraps her right leg over his and holds him tighter.

"Night, Allison."

The two were soon sleeping soundly, peacefully and completely content.


	27. Age of Aquarius

-1DISCLAIMER: In no way, shape or form do I condone nor intend to glamourize  
the use of Ketamine in this and possibly the following chapter. I have done research on the use and side effects of Ketamine, but I do NOT encourage its use to anyone! I, therefore, wish to remain not liable for any demented person out there who even thinks about doing it. Thank you and have a nice day. :o)

Oh, and this is kinda like KidsNurse's story with Cuddy being at House's side while he gets his own little 'experimented pain reliever dosage thingie', but not really. I'm just not dwelling into it as deeply and expertly as she did.

Oh, and a special shout out to Hildanmum (again, bad spelling) and ALC, who are in this and the next maybe few chapter as Hildie and Alice (ALCAlice--get it? Lol). As I promised!

**CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN - Age of Aquarius  
**  
Shortly after midnight Cuddy sneaks into House's room hoping he is asleep, but is not at all surprised when she finds him awake and sitting up in bed, doing a Sudoku puzzle.

"God, I HATE that game! I always mess them up and have put holes through more than one piece of paper erasing the wrong answers!" House turns his head to see her walk in wearing jeans, sneakers and a tight turtle neck that is a little too tight around the 'Funbags' area.

His eyes flutter wider. "Wow! LOVE the sweater!" he says with an evil, playful grin.

She ignores him and asks, "Having trouble sleeping?" She pulls up a chair and sits down beside the bed.

"Little."

"I can understand that. It would have been so much easier if Zhang had just given it to you when I told him."

"Yeah."

The room is filled with silence except for the soft breathing of Wilson in the bed behind the curtains. House had wanted them open so he could mess with him but Wilson had won the nurse over and he won the 'close the curtain' battle.

Cuddy knows it's not the worry about the procedure that is keeping him awake but his leg is probably hurting a great deal. "Need something for the pain?" Cuddy asks and House nods his head.

"Ok." She stands, places a clipboard on the bed by House's right foot and inserts a needle into his I.V. which is needed because he is still mildly dehydrated. "The Ketalar will take care of the effects later, so it's safe to give you morphine, although not at a full dose."

"Thanks...wait, Ketalar?" he mutters and turns his head to look at her.

"Easier to trace Ketamine than it is Ketalar." She empties the syringe of Morphine into the I.V. tube. "Don't get too comfortable and fall asleep. We have some rules to go over."

"I don't need no schtinkin' rules!" he retorts, doing a very good impression of Al Pacino.

Cuddy smiles at him then says, "Yes, you do." She throws the needle in the trash then sits back down at his side. "They're not really rules, just some stuff to go over before the procedure in the morning."

House turns his head to the window and pretends not to listen, but Cuddy knows he is; he has no other choice, really.

"Okay, Ketalar, Ketamine's brand name, will reverse the effects of the morphine so you are covered there. I wouldn't want you to be on both that and the Morphine. In the morning, around 5:30, you'll be moved to another room, private. I'll be here the whole weekend and so will Hildie Smithers and Alice Chancellor. No one else will know.

"We'll try a low dose, first, and if the side effects are too severe I'll up it by 10mg per kg then wait to see how it affects you. Of course, at a higher dose there are only a bit more serious side effects. What I'm more worried about is your pulse and oxygen levels. And I'll have everything you'll need for the weekend in the 'Hospitality Suite' because you'll need to be monitored very closely."

"Yeah, yeah, I know the procedure and the risks," House snips as he waves his right hand. "Give me the damned paper. I'll sign it."

"Not so fast, Mr. Impatient Much. Legally I have to explain everything to you or it doesn't happen. Understand?" House grunts under his breath. "Good, thought so."

"I'm sure you're quite familiar with the effects of Ketalar since you dropped that acid to prove you are an ass," she continues with a heavy tone of sarcasm in her voice but can't help but crack a little grin. But I want you…need you to talk to me during the whole time. Do you think you can do that for me?"

House turns his head and finally looks at her. "Sure, but you have to know I'm not responsible for my actions."

"Oh, not a problem. If you misbehave I can always slap you. You won't remember it anyway," she says with a genuine smile.

"Okay, so, you know it'll be a good 48 hours before you are up and completely off the Ketalar and if all is well you'll be back in your room, er, yours and Wilson's room, by Monday afternoon. If all is well then, you can be home Wednesday."

House's eyes slowly begin to lose focus on Cuddy and she knows he's had enough.

"You need to sign this," she tells him and hands him the clipboard with the paper on it. He signs it quickly and hands it back to her.

"You should be a doctor. Your handwriting stinks," she teases him.

"So does your beside manner," he shoots back but smiles at her weakly.

"Get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning," she tells him and quietly leaves the room.

"No fair. You get the good drugs," Wilson quietly mumbles.

"Yeah, great, huh?"

"Good luck tomorrow," Wilson says.

"Thanks," House answers back. "Still miss me?"

There's no answer and he is too exhausted to really mess with his best friend anymore. He closes his eyes and drifts off to sleep.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

As promised, Cuddy takes House to the private room down the hall, on the same floor as he already is. That is a condition Cuddy relented on because House still wants to be on the same floor as Wilson. Friendships can indeed generate that need for closeness, even in it's literal form.

He gets into the bed and asks Cuddy to close the curtain because he knows the faint glow of the rising sun will give way to a blinding light as the drug gets into his system. She then puts a small duffle bag on a chair and hooks him up with pads on his chest for possible heart problems, oxygen level detector and a few other necessary items.

"You aren't impressed?" House asks as she places the gown together and snaps them closed.

She frowns and asks him, "Impressed with what?"

"My manly chest."

"Oh, that. Well, show me one and I'll let you know what I think," she ribs him and they both smile. "Are you ready?" She stands waiting for his answer.

After a brief pause he nods his head. "Let's do it."

She takes the vial of Ketalar, inserts the needle into the top and withdraws just enough for the required dose. "Okay, this will knock you out for about an hour but I'll see you after that." She pauses and minute. "But there's no telling what you'll see."

Hildie Smithers and Alice Chancellor silently walk into the room and prepare themselves for whatever the next 48 hours will bring.

Cuddy inserts the needle into the I.V. tube and slowly pushes the medicine in. She is a little unnerved at the look in his eyes - they're wary, nervous, scared but trusting, too. That is the only thing that settles her own nerves. His eyes slowly become unfocused and his eyelids are fighting to stay up.

As the last drop is emptied from the needle she withdraws it and puts her hand on his own.

"You'll be fine, Greg. You'll be fine," she tells him reassuringly.

His eyes finally flutter closed and his breathing becomes steady, telling her he is out now.

"God, please let him be fine. Please let this work," she pleads.


	28. Dreams of Truths or Lies?

**CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT – Dreams of Truths or Lies?**

'_Ok, House, hang in there. Thirty more minutes. You should come around a little bit in thirty minutes. That's the worst part. You can do it.'_

It has only been about twenty minutes since Cuddy inserted the Ketalar into House's I.V. Things are going calmer than she anticipated but still, it is harder to deal with than she thought it would be. She is on pins and needles waiting for anything to happen.

And she thinks everything is fine – until House silently reaches over and pulls at the B.P. cuff, scratches at it and curses that it is hurting him and his fingers are falling off. The Velcro easily separates as Cuddy fights to keep it on him. He keeps calling Cuddy Stacy and yells at her about how much she hurt him for leaving and how much he hates her and wishes she'd die. What hurts Cuddy more is when he blames her solely for the loss of his leg.

"YOU SHOULDN'T HAVE LET HER! IT WAS MY LEG! I WANT IT BACK! I WANT MY LEG BACK! YOURS! GIVE ME YOURS!" he screams.

Immediately upon Cuddy's order, Hildie and Alice are at his bedside trying to hold his arms down while Cuddy administers Zyprexa to quell the minor delusion. Only after his body becomes rigid and he sinks into the bed does Cuddy somewhat relax. She takes a deep breath and reapplies the blood pressure cuff onto his arm while the two nurses check his blood pressure, heart rhythm and pulse.

"Dr. Cuddy, his B.P. shot up to 185over102 but that could just have been because of the hallucination," Hildie says.

"His pulse was up to 142 but it's down to 111 now but still too high," Alice adds.

Cuddy nods her head as she covers House lovingly with the bed sheet. "Ok, we'll check his stats again in ten minutes. I'll have to run down to the Pharmacy for Procardia just in case we need it."

As Cuddy walks down the hall to the elevator she can't help but think what House said to her, even the look in his eyes was something she'd NEVER seen – even when he was detoxing or in his normal everyday 'pain in the arse' moods. She understands it's the Ketalar but didn't think she'd ever hear those words come from him.

'_Can't let it get too personal. He didn't mean it. I know he didn't.'_

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

The authoritative, urgent voices have stopped now and he's grateful for it. The voices, while soft, were as deafening as a speaker from a band's amplifier and he was standing only two feet away from it. It was a strange sound to him yet he found it oddly soothing – the voices bounced off the walls like in a massive cave and came back to him with every syllable. They reverberated in his ears and he made a game out of trying to determine what the note was as if it were a symphony playing.

What had set him off just a moment ago was the tightness on his right arm that kept getting tight then was released, but it is becoming more and more annoying to him with every passing minute. His body no longer feels as if it is attached to him: his legs feel somewhat numb and weightless yet there's also the sensation of a million ants crawling on them but yet he doesn't find it unbearable, just mildly bothersome; his arms feel as if they are floating on a cloud beside him but the rest of his body is going to fall through at any moment; his head feels as if someone is holding it and moving it in all different directions but he has no control over it any more.

He has no control over anything anymore; that's what is really making him angry. He wants his body to wake up, to feel normal again, to feel like it had more than five years earlier when he wasn't in such horrific pain.

But something wasn't right. Something was off. What was it? Where was he? Why did everything sound and feel so funny?

"House," a soft, calm voice says in his ear, "House, it's Stacy. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere."

He tries to open his eyes but he can't. They feel as if they are swollen shut, stapled. _'Yeah, stapled.'_ He can feel the ants from his legs crawling over the staples under his eyelids, over his eyelashes, on his forehead and scurrying about his hair over his ears. It tickles. It's annoying. _'Stop, make it stop.'_

"Offff…get 'em off me…" House mutters as he tries to brush off the imaginary ants. "Stacy, get rid of 'em! They tickle…they…hurt. They're…they're BITING ME!"

"House! Stop it!" Cuddy cries as she runs back into the room to House's bedside.

"Stacy, they're all over me…get 'em off…OFF ME!" he continues to cry out.

Hildie and Alice have their hands on both of his wrists holding them down because the last thing they want to happen is the I.V. tube get pulled from his vein in the back of his left arm.

"Hildie, keep his arms down and Alice, hold onto his left leg," Cuddy orders before she grabs the Ketalar vial and another syringe to administer a higher dose.

She turns the vial upside down while she pulls back on the syringe but then she suddenly grunts and relapses on her right side. Somehow House managed to bring his left leg up and with enough force kick her. Cuddy groans softly but barks, "Alice, tighter gri…DAMNIT!" Cuddy curses as House's foot once again finds her waist, right above her ribs and succeeds in giving her a solid kick.

"Hildie, take this," Cuddy says angrily and impatiently as she gives Alice a dirty look and hands Hildie the syringe. "Give it to him."

Cuddy then grabs onto House's left leg and puts as much weight on it as she can. She watches Hildie as she inserts the Ketalar into the tube and soon enough, again and hopefully longer this time, House calms down and grows silent.

Alice recoils from the bed and she turns to leave the room.

"Alice, I'm sorry I snapped. It wasn't your fault. I need you here," Cuddy tells her as she tries to catch her breath and rubs her side. Alice nods her head and heads back to the cabinets over the sink.

Cuddy turns back to House and thinks, _'They're getting worse. You shouldn't have so many hallucinations so soon. Don't get all stupid on me, House. This is a piece of cake for you. You can do this.'_

Suddenly a beep resonates throughout the room and Cuddy's heart jumps in her chest.

"His BP is 198over210…he'll stroke out if…" Hildie starts to say but then the heart monitor beside the bed gives the infamous, threatening and terrifying sound of a flat line.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Cameron slowly becomes aware of where she is and for some reason feels quite content. She hears the birds chirp outside her window and opens her eyes to see the sun shining softly through her window. She smiles. She turns her head away from the window and sees House staring back at her.

"'Mornin', love," he says with a familiar voice but not of House's. House's deeply sexy, throaty voice has a very thick Aussie accent. "What's wrong?"

"House, why do you sound like Cha…wait, what the HELL are you doing in my bed?" Cameron demands as she sits up in bed and continues to stare at the strange House-Chase person.

HouCha sits up next to her and tries to put his arm around her but she pushes him away and jumpsd out of bed.

"If you're House then…then, where's Chase? No, you sound like Chase but look like House…what's going on!"

"Oh, Allison, it's what you wanted. I am Chase on the inside but House on the outside."

She frowns at him and shakes her head back and forth in denial at what she sees in front of her. HouCha stands and approaches her to talk some sense into her but she fights him off, pounding her fists into his chest. Her head continues to rock back and forth until she feels her body shake violently and Chase's voice commands her to 'snap out of it.'

"It's not me that needs to snap out of…"

"Allison, ALLISON! Look at me!" Chase cries as he continues to shake her until she opens her eyes and wakes up from the nightmare she's in.

"no…no…NO!" she wails as her arms flail in front of her as if she is fighting something off, occasionally succeeding in a few punches to his chest.

"Shhhhh…shhh, Allison. You're okay," Chase tells her reassuringly.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD


	29. The Eulogy

-1**CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE **- The Eulogy

Three days have passed since Dr. Gregory House went into cardiac arrest. Try as she might and with all the medical resources she had, she could not bring him back. She tried for 45 minutes, as well as three other doctors in the hospital but to no avail. Cuddy never cried when she walked out of the room that afternoon, nor did she when she went in to tell Wilson that he'd passed away. Even when she called Chase, Cameron and Foreman in Sunday morning to tell them she never shed a tear.

But Cameron did, no surprise there. Chase sat down next to her and grabbed her in his arms and held her as she cried, but it wasn't a deep-felt cry - you know, the ones that come from the pit of your stomach. Foreman just stood against the window and stared at the three in front of him, no tears, no surprise. Just stared.

Wilson took it harder than Cuddy thought he would - okay, she knew he'd take it hard but she never expected him to throw the tray of left over food halfway across the room and make her leave. She stood outside his hospital room a few minutes listening to him, and it tore at her heart. She raced to her office, closed and locked the door, threw herself on the couch and cried. For the first time, over the death of House.

The morning started off with a brisk fall chill in the air which made the mourners gather the collars of their coats around their necks and wrap their arms for support as they entered the church. Cameron's eyes were bloodshot and swollen, and Chase stayed by her side the whole time. Wilson, still being in the wheelchair, was being pushed by Foreman. Cuddy lead the group.

House's coffin was below the alter with an abundance of white lillies and yellow carnations. He was wearing a suit that Blythe picked out for him, although she knew if he knew what she had chosed he would have fought like he did when he was three years old. But in his memory, she did leave his favorite Rolling Stones t-shirt underneath, and only she and House knew it was there.

There was a picture of him and Wilson at a Monster truck rally and he actually had a genuine smile on his face. When Wilson remembered the picture he asked Cuddy to get it from his apartment for the funeral. She reluctantly agreed.

John and Blythe sat in the front row and Wilson avoided their eyes. He felt partly responsible, although he is not. But he just knew he had to do something to prevent House from getting as far down as did but he was helpless to stop him.

Stacy and Mark sat in the third row but the two were very distant to each other. Mark was out of his wheelchair and was using a cane (ironic, isn't it?). Her eyes were so swollen they looked like they were glued shut. She loved House once, still loved a part of him. But she couldn't live with him. She couldn't let him drag her down like he had before. But Mark - he was...relieved, and Stacy felt it.

House's boss and coworkers sat in the second row after they viewed his body. As Cameron approached it her legs grew weak and Chase caught her just in time before she fell to her knees. She never did see his body - she couldn't bring herself to look at him. She wanted to remember him as he was: a cranky, narcissistic, unemotional...but now wasn't the time for her to reflect on that.

Wilson was the only one that approached and looked at his friend. He had forgotten what he looked like without his shadow that he'd worn more than five years. And now there laid someone he didn't know, yet he knew, but didn't understand. His eyes filled with tears, tears that he refused to let fall. Not here. Not now. Later. Later, when he was alone.

Reverend Richard Maxwell approached the alter behind the pulpit and placed an opened bible on the stand and removed the bookmark.

"Fellow parishoners, friends, colleagues, loved ones, today is a sad day that we have all been called to gather here in the hall of the Lord. For we are here to mourn the death of Gregory Marshall House."

Tearful sobs echoed from the back of the church that no one seemed to hear.

After a few more words from the Reverend he asked for friends or family to come up and say a few words about him. Needless to say there was no rush to the front. But Wilson whispered to Foreman to push him up to the front and he handed him the microphone.

There was a moment of silence before Wilson gathered his thoughts together and was able to speak without his voice cracking, or so he thought.

"How...Greg and I were friends about five years. I met him..." he stopped and looked at Stacy, then continued, "he was going through a rough patch. But I knew Greg, understood Greg...couldn't put up with him sometimes, but, I tried." There were a few stiffled giggles from the pews.

"But although he didn't like to show it, Greg had a heart. Kinda like the Grinch, but still, it was there. He cared about patients, just didn't like to talk to them. He wanted to cure them, make them better. Even those that worked for him he had faith in, that's why he hired them in the first place."

He said that kindly as he looked at Chase, Cameron and Foreman. His voice started to crack a little as he paused a moment to think of what else he wanted to say.

"He lived his life the way he wanted to, and always had a sense of adventure.

He even wanted to bungee jump but he'd only do it with me and I refused. Looking back now..."

Wilson had to clear his throat before he continued.

"Greg never let anyone in, we all know that. But it didn't mean he didn't care. Because he did. He told me. More than once. But I believe he let me in, like a brother he never had. And while he could say the stupidest things and do the most moronic stuff, I know why he did what he did.

"He was a good man, and the only comfort I can offer to those of you that are here is that he is no longer in pain. And I don't really know what he'd think of all these flowers," he finished, forcing a comforting, unnatural smile. Wilson handed Foreman the microphone, who placed in on a step and pushed Wilson back to the spot he was before.

Again there was a sob from the back of the room.

"HE WOULDN'T LIKE THE FLOWERS!" someone shouted from the back. No one turned around to look at the idiot who said that.

A few family members came up and said a few words, but everyone could tell how difficult it was for them. The church remained quiet for a few minutes.

A man walked up the isle of the church screaming, "Please tell me no suit!" No one paid any attention to him except a little three year old curly blonde haired girl who smiled at him as he walked past her.

Suddenly the man stopped and grabbed at his chest. He had difficulty catching his breath as he walked closer to the casket. Again he grabbed his chest and moaned loudly. He took two, three steps up to the coffin and looked in...

"NO! Not a suit!"

A sharp pain ripped at his chest again and this time he collapsed on his knees, his right hand in a fist at his left breast.

"No...owww...make it stop..."

Another sharp pain shot through his body.

From his right side he hears a steady beep, like a heart beat. The coffin in front of him grew dark and the voices disappeared, but were replaced by others screaming orders.

"He's back!" Cuddy said, sighing in a deep breath as she stepped back and looked at Dr. Gregory House, who had been fighting for his life the past several minutes.

"Vitals are strong, Dr. Cuddy," Alice said as she grabbed the paddles from Cuddy and placed them back on the cart.


	30. A Lifetime

_**This chapter is dedicated to AtreideHeir for offering his experience through a friend of how it feels to be as high as House is in. I don't think the chapter would have been as eloquent as it turned out. Thanks, dude!**_

**CHAPTER THIRTY – A Lifetime**

"House, can you hear me?" Cuddy asks nervously.

House moans a few times before his eyes slowly open and he looks around the room, in a bit of confusion. He sees Cuddy standing beside the bed with a look of fright and worry.

"Wha…what happened?" he asks.

"We lost you for a couple of minutes. You better stop doing that to me," she tells him, forcing a weak smile.

"Admit it, you'd be so bored without me," he teases back. She nods her head in agreement and asks him how he feels. "…kinda weird. Went to my own funeral," he says forlornly.

"Oh, people actually showed up?" she asks playfully but he doesn't answer at first. She clears her throat nervously.

Only then does he smile softly. "Cuddy, if I die, don't bury me in a suit, and no white lilies," he tells her before he closes his eyes briefly.

"Ok, no problem. Wash and iron your Lynard Skynard t-shirt so I won't have to."

House looks at her and says, "I'm not ready to 'check out' yet."

"You'd better not. I can't think of a better employee to have; you keep my job interesting, that's for sure," she tells him as she gently touches his right arm.

"Liar," he answers then closes his eyes and turns his head.

"I know, I know. How does your head feel?"

"Oh, it's still attached?"

Cuddy smiles and gets the vial of loxoprofen and the syringe before she inserts it into the I.V. tube. "Any nausea?" House shakes his head. "Good. Get some rest. Sleep if you can."

"Carmen Electra…Carmen…Carmen Electra...," he mumbles then giggles.

"House? What are you mumbling?" she asks as she places the syringe on the tray.

"I wanna have a good dream. I'm over Angelina. I thought this might work."

Cuddy lets a little laugh out before she turns to leave and runs into Cameron standing in the doorway. She continues to walk out of the room and as she walks away Cameron follows her.

"What are you doing here? It's Saturday," Cuddy says as she stops and faces Cameron.

"I had a strange dream this morning - about House."

"And?"

"_And _I got a call from someone about House being admitted this morning," Cameron continues.

"Oh, really? By whom?"

"Doesn't matter. What's going on with House?"

"It's personal. Patient/Doctor confidentiality," Cuddy tells her rather shortly. "Go home, Cameron," she says as she turns around to walk away from her.

"I just want to…"

Cuddy stops in her tracks, turns briskly and walks back toward Cameron. "I've told you once before, Allison, House is not your problem. Weren't you even _listening_? I know he's your boss, but he's fine." Cameron stands in the hall looking at Cuddy speechless and bewildered. "I said go home."

Cameron's face drops in rejection and hurt before she does as she is told and leaves the hospital. _'I can't keep doing this…to myself…to Chase. Damnit.' _

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Dr. James Wilson has been lying in his hospital bed the past hour wondering how House was getting along in his Ketamine treatment. For some reason he isn't very confident in the handling of House taking it, but he hopes, for his sake, that it does work.

Wilson is in his own thoughts so deeply that he doesn't hear the door softly close or hear the squeaking of tennis shoes against the sterile linoleum floor. Only after several minutes does he chance turning his head to see who the culprit is that has been staring at him. When he sees Cuddy he doesn't smile, nor does his eyes beam with anticipation of a hopeful prognosis about House from her.

"How are you feeling, Wilson?" she asks, seeing the sadness…_what_ was the exact look she sees in his eyes?

"You know, I am really getting tired of hearing that question," he snips, but doesn't appear to be remorseful at all.

Cuddy's eyebrows furl a little as she tries to think of something to say. Words have been difficult for her to find the past few hours and the stress is starting to affect her. _'I am going to have to take up George on that offer on the bungalow in Key West,'_ she thinks to herself.

"I'm sorry. Just got a call from my mom – it seems she's kinda pissed at me, still."

"About what?"

"Covering for House."

Cuddy shakes her head in understanding of the understatement of the year. She tries to think of something positive for Wilson to cheer his diminishing mood.

"You should be out of here by Tuesday. And Dr. Powell will cover for you while you're out." She waits for some kind of acknowledgement from him. When she doesn't get one she continues. "Are you going to be okay at home alone while you recoup? We can get Nurses Hildie Smithers or Alice Chancellor to stay with you for a couple of days. I think Hildie has a crush on you," she says with a smile.

Still nothing from Wilson. "Well, I'll let you get some rest." When he still doesn't answer she quietly leaves the room.

Wilson silently curses out loud but not at Cuddy, at himself. He hates being mean to her, to anyone for that matter. But he doesn't care. He's been lying in bed for almost a week but honestly, he doesn't care. About Cuddy. About his parents. Not even about House. He feels numb, like all his positive emotions have been drained from him.

He looks at the button that releases the morphine and doesn't hesitate to hit it a few times. He smiles at the relief it will bring momentarily. It won't take away his growing hatred for those close to him, but it will make him not care.

About anything, or anyone.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Back in House's room he's been staring at his hand that has an aura around it, displaying all the colors of the rainbow. He twists his wrist and moves his fingers and is very much entertained at the psychedelic object in front of him. He then looks out the window and watches leaves blowing from their branches: red, yellow, blue, green, pink and every other shade are circling and swaying and dancing like a single leaf being swept down river.

He looks at the chair at the end of the room, at the air conditioning unit, the closet cabinet and he is overwhelmed at the 'oddness' of it all. It was like he is looking at everything past his nose through a large glass jar. The edges are all fuzzy and the middle of every object was like he was looking at them in one of those Funny Mirror houses at carnivals. The items kept growing and shrinking and it hurt his head just trying to focus on them.

He grabs for the cup on the tray next to his bed but knocks it over with his hand; it wasn't as far as he thought it was. A giggle escapes him, but it isn't anything to laugh at. He hears a voice saying something to him, sees a vertical solid multi-colored mass move toward him but he isn't frightened. He is just mesmerized by all the pretty colors.

When he brought his hand back to him, he realizes his body feels anesthetized, although he knows he is wide awake. He hadn't felt this way since he took that PCP in college to prove to a classmate that there is such a thing as a K-hole. A K-hole is that state of delirium, actually a near death experience that a user goes through after dropping acid. But how he felt now was nothing like he had years ago.

Although he can't really sense his body (the hair on his legs, the sweat pouring from his forehead down to his ears and soaking his pillow), his body senses _something_. But he is reluctant to relinquish all of his control to it. He has always had a control issue, even from the time he could walk. Suddenly everything shifts and he is aware of his body floating high in the sky and the clouds are brushing against his legs and arms and his brain is waiting to register the sensation but there is a loose connection somewhere.

He tries to close his eyes but they instantly fly open again – in search of a mysterious hand approaching his throat or a sword aimed at his neck?

Something firm grabs his forearm and he pulls it quickly away. "Who are you? What do you want?" he demands.

Again he hears a voice but cannot understand what it is saying. Slowly, his senses refocus and he can make out a feminine figure standing by the bed. His hearing clears and he can now understand what she is saying.

"…a hospital. Let's just get your blood pressure cuff back on you, okay?" a sweet, melodic voice echoes through his head.

"Whaaa…where am I?" he grunts, swallowing hard as the Ketalar has increased his thirst.

"It's just the medication, Dr. House. You're fine."

He relaxes a bit but keeps his guard up. He frantically searches his brain for what exactly has happened to him, and

as the realization slowly sinks in he asks for Cuddy.

"I'm right here, House," she says at the foot of the bed.

"How much longer?" House grunts.

"Just about an hour or so but I think you are through the worst part," she says calmly and confidently.

House slightly nods his head, closes his eyes and lets his exhausted body give into the warm and fuzzy feeling within him.

Cuddy tells the two nurses a few things before she walks out into the hallway and leans against the wall, throwing her head back against it, a bit harder than was necessary.

'_God, please let it be just an hour or so.'_


	31. Cameron Finally Chooses

**This chapter was inspired by AtreidesHeir, and he knows about which part. **

**CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE – Cameron Finally Chooses**

House was just beginning to doze off shortly after Cuddy left when voices began to keep him awake.

Hildie and Alice have been very attentive to him since the treatment began, although he has not really acknowledged their presence. The two nurses giggle while they talk about House, but not in a derogatory way but more of 'Would you have a relationship with House?' interaction.

Alice admitted she found something about him attractive although she couldn't put her fingers on it and Hildie admitted she actually liked Wilson better. They went back and forth about what was so attractive about Wilson (from his pocket protector to his cute, squeaky-mouse voice to his ability to keep his cool around House) and what was so attractive about House (from his scruffy 'love the feel of scratches against my chin when we kiss' to his awesomely 'better than Paul Newman blue eyes' to his ability to make the Coma Guy want to kill him) when they hear a tepid voice come from the patient's bed.

"I'm hotter, sexier and a _way_ better match than Wilson."

The two women eye each other out of embarrassment that he's heard what they've said and are momentarily speechless.

"Dr. House, you're dreaming. We weren't talking about _you_. We were talking about…about…" Alice stutters before she gives Hildie a dirty look at her being 'caught mouse in the trap.'

"Where's Cuddy?" House mumbles without opening his eyes.

"She went to check on Dr. Wilson. How are you feeling?" Hildie asks but only because Alice is too embarrassed to say anything.

"…little better. How is he?"

"Well, we don't know; we've been kept busy with you all morning. I guess you can ask Dr. Cuddy when she comes back."

"Actually, Dr. Wilson is fine. You two can leave for a break. I'll keep an eye on him." A female voice comes from the doorway. She takes a few more steps toward House's bed without any response from the two nurses.

"Dr. Cameron, we've been told by Dr. Cuddy…," Alice starts to say but the stern 'you better not argue with me' look from Cameron sends the two nurses out the door.

House never opens his eyes when he hears her voice but pretends he's gone back to sleep. Cameron knows better by the rhythm of his breathing that he is indeed still awake. She grabs a chair, pulls it closer to the bed, sits down and watches him.

After a few minutes House feels as if he's about to explode. He turns his head toward her, opens his eyes and says, "What? Am I drooling again?"

She gives him a small grin. "No, but your nurses were drooling over you."

He returns her grin then something comes to his mind. "Why are you here? How did you know I was here? And why are there three of you?"

Cameron laughs out loud. "I'm here because…well, I'm not sure. I got a call that you were in here for the weekend but Dr. Cuddy wouldn't tell me anything. And there's probably three of me because of the Ketamine you're on."

House furls his eyebrows at how much she knows. "Ketalar. And so much for top secret missions…" he says before he gasps at a sudden pain in his right leg, "which doesn't seem to be working."

"It'll be a while before the full effects can be determ…"

"I know, I know. I did the research," House snips at her. "What do you want?"

"I need to hear something from you."

"Oh, and you think that while I'm on a hallucinatory drug that it's a good time to ask me?"

"If I don't ask now I'll never know, and I might regret never asking."

"Do we _really_ have to do this now?"

Cameron nods her head. "Yes."

"Fine. Shoot. Besides, I won't remember anyway."

Cameron takes a deep breath. "Could you ever love me? Would you ever want me?"

A part of House is surprised at her bluntness while a part of him isn't. He turns and looks up at the ceiling, keeping his eyes open. "Cameron, yes. I want you."

Cameron's heart leapt into her chest at what he's just said to her. "Wait, are you saying…"

"I'm saying I want you to get me some water." Cameron's mouth drops as House turns to look at her. "Oh, not in a joking mood? Sorry. You want to know the truth?"

"I wouldn't have asked if I didn't," she replies.

"There is a bit of an attraction, I'll admit that. And while yeah, I'd take you home for a one night stand there could be nothing more than that between us." House turns back to the ceiling to get his thoughts together.

She waits patiently for him to continue and the anticipation is killing her. She would love to squeeze his I.V. tube just long enough to make him pass out. She continues to stare at him waiting for more of an explanation, which she doesn't get.

"So, then, you're saying I'm 'do-able' but not date-able? Why am I not date-able?" she asks.

"Hey, I answered your question. You didn't say anything about any type of elaboration required."

"No, I don't understand. You'd 'do me' but not date me. Can you explain that? Please, enlighten me," she says, her voice beginning to become bitter.

He turns to look at her again and heavily sighs. She notices how tired his eyes look but this is one subject she is not going to back down from. She crosses her arms over her chest.

"Cameron, if we'd met some other place, some other time, under way different circumstances, before my leg…hell, better even if I just started college, wait, you'd be what, one year old?"

"I know, I know. Don't go there. Go ahead," she interrupts him.

"If we had met before so much _life _had gotten in our way, who knows. Things might have worked…between us. But not now."

"Why not now?" she continues to press the issue which only makes House become more agitated and irritable.

"Because it's not fair," he spits out.

"What's not fair?"

"Not fair to you, after all _this_," House says as he looks down at his leg.

"Shouldn't that be my decision?"

"Look, if we dated and got in a huge fight, can you _honestly_ tell me the next day wouldn't compromise us working together? That's all I'm concerned about. I hired you to work with you, not be distracted by you."

Cameron slowly nods her head with no look of hatred or anger on her face, but more of complete understanding. She stands, pushes the chair back in its original position and stands by his bed.

"I get it. Too much has happened in our own lives that's made us who we are now. I get that. But can you give me one sentence that sums everything up?" She is intentionally playing 'blonde' (although no one knows she is a natural blonde) just to see how far she can push him to hopefully get the truth from him.

"I respect you too much." Cameron is flabbergasted. That isn't the sentence she expected to hear from him. "Yeah, yeah, I said it. But I will never say it again, much less remember it. And you'd better forget it, too."

She gives him a small smile, more from relief of knowing what she must do now than from the words he's said.

"Okay. Thanks. And don't worry, I won't tell Chase or Foreman about your 'vacation.'" Cameron turns and walks toward the door.

"Cameron?" She stops and turns to look at him. "And I won't tell anyone that you are do-able."

She slightly blushes and tells him, "It's okay. It's already a well known fact…wait, that didn't come out right."

"GO HOME!" he shouts at her then a huge smile spreads across his lips.

She warmly smiles back at him and leaves his room with the final understanding between the two of them. And she knows what she wants to do. She heads to the grocery store, buys the items for her famous homemade lasagna with Italian bread with garlic to make for Chase.

Then to finally tell him who she chooses – House or Chase. But take out the 'House' part.


	32. Mysterious Woman

-1**CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - Mysterious Woman**

House sat in his apartment watching t.v., taking huge bites from his favorite, a Reuben sandwich, and Lays Baked Sour Cream and Onion potato chips his mother left him before she went off to work, legs crossed and propped up on the table. The show Trading Spaces is remodeling a bedroom for a deaf, autistic child. House thought it's _so sweet _that Ty and the gang are doing that for the family. Wait, those aren't words in House's vocabulary. He just wished Ty would smash his finger with the hammer while checking out Genievive's low-cut blouse.

Speaking of low-cut blouses he had to call Cuddy. He couldn't really remember why, though. What was it she asked from him? Help her move furniture? Paint her living room? Fix the leak in her roof?

He got distracted from his thoughts and from the show when the phone rang. He let it ring, and ring, and ring until it stopped on the eighth ring. A few seconds passed and it started to ring again.

He rolled his eyes, set the plate on the coffee table and walked to the desk where the phone was. He didn't need his cane, hadn't needed it since the Ketalar treatment had worked. What was more baffling to him was that his leg was _completely _healed. Healed not just of the pain, but the whole entire scarred area where the thigh muscle had been removed was no longer there.

It was a healthy leg. A _normal_ leg - a leg he'd had all his life and was very fond of. But he wouldn't complain.

He picked up the phone and grunted, "What?"

"I see you are all chipper, dude."

"Yeah, yeah. 'Cuz you called. What do you want, Wilson?"

"There's a Monster Truck Rally this Saturday. Do you want to go?"

"Is it free?"

"No, the tickets are $54, including parking."

"Then I don't want to go," House grunted back.

"Oh, man! Killer Keel is gonna be there! I heard they just put in a 12-cylinder engine in it!"

"Oh, then I'll go."

"Really?" Wilson asked excitedly.

"No."

Wilson sighed heavily in the phone then asked, "You want me to pay, don't you?"

"Oh, I couldn't ask you to do that."

"Why not? You ask for everything else," Wilson jokingly shot back.

"That's true. Okay, I'll go if you buy the beer, too."

Wilson shook his head then said, "Fine."

"Oh, and I want some cotton candy," House added like a child begging for a candy bar from its father.

"Fine, fine. Baby," Wilson teased.

"Panty chaser."

"Pill popper."

"Dillweed."

"Pickle fart."

"Asparagus breath," House said, but something caught his eye. He turned his head and looked in his bedroom.

"Peanut for brains," Wilson shot back, oblivious to what had diverted House's attention to their name calling game.

House continued to look in his bedroom, at his bed, and as he stared, something moved under the sheets. He tilted his head sideways as he always had when he was observing something out of the ordinary or as if it would bring him a genius of the case of the day at work.

"House? You there?"

House stared perplexed, bewildered, somewhat interested, but not sure what to make out of what he was looking at. It looked like a body.

"House! I'm hanging up now. Paula must have just gotten there."

At the mention of the hooker's name House replied, "Yeah, she is. Gotta go." He attempted to place the receiver in the cradle without looking at it but it fell onto the desk, backside up, like a cockroach that got kicked on its back.

All of a sudden a body sat up in the bed. But it was far from being Paula. It was a woman: old, crinkly, sardonic expression on her face, eyeing him as if looking into his very soul.

"What the fu...," he muttered, but continued to gape at the figure.

He jumped when the phone rang, his head briefly shot to the phone, but the receiver was not in the cradle.

And it still rang.

He didn't want to answer it. He _wouldn't_ answer it.

But there was a voice echoing out of it. A creepy intonation; a voice he recognized but didn't _really _recognize.

"Hhhhhhoooooowwwwww..."

His head turned back to the bed because he thought it was the woman talking to him. Her lips were shut, but her eyes were wide open. Staring straight at him. Upon closer inspection he noticed something was falling from her bottom eyelid. It was dark, shiny. Blood?

"Hhhhouse..."

Again he turned back to the receiver.

"Youuuu prommmmisssssed."

He said out loud, "Promised WHAT?"

_'Okay, I'm talking to myself about a phone talking to me that's not even plugged in. What did Mom lace my Reuben with? Maybe the sauerkraut was bad.'_

"Housssse, you saaaaid you'd haaaave my bayyybeeee."

Cuddy. It was Cuddy's voice.

"Wait, it can't be. She said she wanted Wilson...oh, this is ridiculous," he spat.

He felt something behind him.

There was a sudden, sharp pain in his leg. His right leg. Where the thigh muscle had been removed. The pain was back.

"Damnit, no pain! Not the leg!" he said loudly as his leg shook with an intense burning sensation moving up to his waist.

He felt the presence behind him again. He quickly glanced at his bed and the figure was gone.

But he knew it was still there in the room with him. He could feel it: like worms crawling on him, tickling the hair on his arms and sending death chills down his spine; like leeches sucking the very life source out of him.

He slowly turned his head to 'whatever' was standing behind him and he saw...


	33. The Unanswered Question

-1**CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE - The Unanswered Question**

"House...HOUSE!"

The sudden calling of his name jolts him out of the nightmare. His eyes are wild and holds terror in them that even Cuddy can register the intensity of his nightmare.

"It's okay," Cuddy tells him reassuringly as she gently pats his shoulder.

"The woman...she was..."

"It's okay. It's just me - just us. Greg, how does your leg feel?" she asks, looking worried.

He looks at her baffled before he settles back down on the pillow.

"Wha ... my leg?" He is quiet for a moment as he ascertains if there is indeed pain in his leg.

"Yeah. You were screaming about pain. I assumed it was your leg. I just thought..."

House suddenly realizes he has been sweating and wipes his forehead, closing his eyes at the memory of the woman in the bed. _'What did that mean?' _he asks himself. But he doesn't really want to know the answer.

"No, the pain is tolerable. Can I have some water?"

Cuddy nods and reaches for the water jug and plastic cup on the nightstand, pouring water into the cup and hands it to him. He enthusiastically empties it, as if he's been out in the desert for days.

"Hey, not so fast," she warns him. She takes the empty cup from him and places it on the nightstand.

"Greg, we're past the four hour mark. Think you can stand? Take a few steps?" Cuddy asks hopefully.

"Answer me something first." Cuddy reluctantly nods her head. "Do you still want me to uh...help you with the baby?"

She looks at him with sadness in her eyes. "We don't need to talk about that now. We need to get you up and about."

"No, I need to know now," he insists.

"Why? What's the urgency?"

"I...I just want to know."

Cuddy shakes her head emphatically. "After your walk."

"Since when have you been so stubborn?" he asks as he pushes the top sheet off him and slowly sits, with Cuddy's help.

"Uh, since I hired you," she answers as she puts her arm around his waist and supports as much weight of him as she can.

"Oh, that's right. I keep forgetting. You never let me have any fun. But I guess someone needs to keep me in..."

House cuts himself off mid sentence when he tries to put weight on his right leg. He softly groans and Cuddy holds onto him tighter.

"You waaaant me. You want my baaaabee," House jokes, trying to keep his mind of the pain shooting through his body.

"House, shut up," Cuddy replies as she holds him up as he takes more steps towards the door.

"Don't push yourself. You still have to let the drug run its course."

"Oh, but I wanted to run the Boston Marathon," he quips as he gets more bold and puts more weight on his leg.

"That's in February."

"Isn't it February?"

"No, it's September," she answers as they reach the bathroom.

"Okay, okay. I'm done," House begs as he suddenly feels lightheaded.

Cuddy helps House back to his bed but he doesn't lie down; he sits on the edge and looks at his leg.

"Well, that's a good start. We should try to get some food in you in about an hour. You hungry?" she asks with her hands on her hips triumphantly.

She notices he looks flushed, yet pale, and at first considers it's because of the exertion but then grows concerned. She reaches for the blood pressure cuff and only slightly turns away from him. By the time she sees him slide off the bed it is too late.

"Oh, House! I'm so sorry!" she says as she instantly kneels down to the floor and puts her hand behind his head. "Did you hurt yourself?"

He looks up at her, no worse for wear and says, "No, but I forgot you aren't wearing a dress. I was gonna cop a peek."

She playfully, but somewhat hard, smacks him on his arm.

Just then the door opens and Hildie and Alice come walking in.

"What happened?" Hildie cries out as she sees the two on the floor.

"Help me get him up," Cuddy orders the two nurses.

They rush to their side and the three women help House back into bed.

"You know, ordinarily I would like a foursome but not now. Maybe later?" he jokes, with a serious expression on his face.

Hildie blushes as Cuddy again reaches for the B.P. cuff and wraps it around his upper right arm until the Velcro attaches. She squeezes the pump until it's at the proper pressure and slowly releases it, keeping her middle finger on the inside of his wrist to get his pulse. After a few seconds she removes the cuff and places it back on the nightstand.

"It's a little high but under the circumstances acceptable. Do you have a headache?"

House simply shakes his head. "Just a little dizzy."

"Well, relax a bit - get your pressure back to normal. It could be because you haven't eaten."

Cuddy leaves it at that because she doesn't really want to answer the question that House asked a few minutes earlier.

"Ok, but you owe me," House says as the two nurses back off and sit in the two chairs at the end of the bed.

"Excuse me? YOU were the one trying to look up under my skirt!" Cuddy exclaims, the two nurses raising their eyebrows at her comment. Cuddy ignores them.

"You have to answer my question," he says with an evil grin.

She shakes her head and tilts her head toward the two nurses.

"It's okay. I'm sure they'll be curious to know if you'll still marry me."

"Hildie, Alice, can you excuse us for just a sec?" Cuddy tries to keep control of her voice but finds it difficult, and she gets a bit nervous at the blush that she swears has just spread over her face.

The two nurses walk out into the hallway.

"You're evil," Cuddy tells him, trying to keep a smile off her face.

He half smiles, the left side of his lip rise in a small curl. "Do you still want me to be your baby's daddy?"

Suddenly, her face becomes stark, bare, expressionless, unable to be read by House.

"No."


	34. Immaculate Conception?

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR – Immaculate Conception**

On the drive home from PPTH and after hitting the grocery store for the lasagna dinner, Cameron mysteriously finds herself driving in the direction of Chase's apartment. She doesn't remember how she got there and she isn't sure exactly what she should do: stay or go on back home?

She sits in the car for a few minutes debating her next move when suddenly a rap on the windshield jolts her. She jumps a little and looks out the window to see Chase standing there with a bag of groceries. Cameron smiles and lowers the car window.

"Hey! What are you doing out here? It's just 10:30. You okay?" Chase asks concerned as he switches the bag from his right to his left arm.

"Yeah, yeah. It's just, well, I'm not really sure why I came by," she pauses, trying not to give too much away.

"Well, I've got bacon and eggs here. Have you eaten breakfast?" he asks with anticipation.

"No, no I haven't. I just came from the hosp…grocery store." She cuts herself off because she isn't sure if she should tell Chase about the conversation she had with House. "If it's not too much hassle, sure. That sounds good. I've got a lasagna dinner here, though, I can't let it just sit."

"Don't worry. Did you have any plans for today? I'll cook breakfast and you cook dinner. How does that sound?" Cameron turns off the engine, grabs her purse and opens the door as soon as Chase moves out of the way of the door.

With Cameron being a little nervous she can't quite finds the words to make the lightest of conversation, which for her is strange. "Okay, that's fine," she replies without putting up a fight.

As they reach the door to the secured building Chase fumbles with the key and the bag almost slips out of his hands but Cameron catches it just in time.

"On second thought, maybe _you_ should cook breakfast and dinner," Chase says with a laugh as the two walk in.

A few minutes later they are settled in his apartment, Chase leaning against the sink and facing Cameron.

"So, why were you at the hospital so early this morning? We don't have any cases – not since House has been…oh, don't tell me, you went to see him?"

"Well, yes, but I was in for a surprise," she tells him.

He looks at her puzzled and asks, "What surprise?"

"He wasn't in his room," was all she could say.

"What do you mean he wasn't there? Was Wilson?"

At that, Cameron couldn't answer because she never did go to see him; she'd gone directly to the room 'her source' told her he is in for the weekend.

"I'm not sure if…well, he's okay if that's what you are worried about," she tells him.

He takes a few steps closer to her and confronts her, but softly. "Cameron, what happened between you two?"

She took a few deep breaths and told him of the conversation between her and House but not between her and Cuddy. That will humiliate her even more than she already is.

Chase took a few steps back and leans against the sink again. "Well, you're here. What does that mean, exactly?"

She looks up at him and says, "That should tell you what I want."

Chase can't help but give a shy grin as again he steps closer to her. "And what do you want, Allison?" he asks as sexily and flirtatiously as he can.

Her cheeks blush a light shade of red and says, "Breakfast."

Her comment makes Chase laugh out loud and Cameron joins him. They started breakfast and ate. The tension between them slowly ebbed away and Cameron felt more comfortable being with him.

Not to mention that they weren't together before, but this felt different. This felt _right_ to her. And she liked it.

And she will never play a fool with House again. No, never.

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"NO?" House stammers as he stares at Cuddy incredulously. "But, I thought…"

"Oh, no, no. It's not like that," she answers as she lightly taps his left leg to scoot over, and then she sits down halfway on the bed. She hesitates a moment to get her thoughts together before she continues.

"Greg, the day after you were shot I had a follow up with Dr. Carr about the I.V.F. and…and…," she stops talking and looks away from House, her voice starting to tremble.

House reaches out his hand for hers and lightly squeezes. He can tell she is doing the best she can to hold back tears, but he has a feeling he knows what she's going to say.

"It's just…well," a single tear falls from her left cheek, "since I've been having the shots the past two months I'm still…not…producing enough eggs. And that means…"

House cut her off because he knows what that means. "There are not enough eggs to remove to fertilize. Is he 100 percent sure that multiple eggs will not occur?" he asks hopefully.

She slowly stands and walks to the window, avoiding looking at House and lets a few more tears fall.

"I'm only 36 - 36, House! Women are having babies in their early forties. I mean, I'm healthy, I eat right, I've done _everything_ the way I was supposed to. Nothing…it's not working. It's not fair, damnit."

"Lisa?" House calls as softly and supportive as he can, yet she doesn't turn around to look at him. "Have you tried a natural conception?"


	35. Wilson's Unexpected Visitor

Thanks for the reviews! I'm glad I am giving everyone what they want – I guess the ones that I'm not are not reading, huh? lol

So….enjoy!

**xxxxxxxxxxxx**

**CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE – Wilson's Unexpected Visitor**

For the past two hours, Wilson has lay awake in bed because either the pain medication isn't working and he is too restless or he has entirely too much on his mind and can't rest properly. There is House's condition – both mental and physical – weighing on him; his parents, who still blame House for his accident; the pain, though admittedly not so bad that he has to keep taking the morphine; and his own medical situation.

He has managed to turn on his side and stare mindlessly out the window at the mid-morning sky, which looks a lot brighter than how he feels inside. He hears a soft scuffle at the door and quickly closes his eyes, trying to ignore whoever it is and just wishes they will go away.

_Avoidance. Gotta love avoidance. And that wasn't even in my vocabulary. Hmm, guess it is now._

The foot steps stop at the foot of the hospital bed.

"Go away. I'm not hungry," he says barely above a whisper.

There are no foot steps leaving his room. The silence is killing Wilson, or maybe it's just paranoia that someone is staring at him, because he knows the person is still there.

"I said I'm NOT hungry!" he barks impatiently.

Again, no foot steps scoot away but a soft voice that says, "Calm down. I don't have any food for you anyways."

_That voice…is familiar. It can't be…_

Slowly, Wilson turns over and looks at the man standing before him.

"Sh…Sean?"

"No, I'm the tooth fairy. You didn't think those quarters appeared on your pillow out of nowhere, did you?"

"But how…" Wilson is speechless.

"As soon as you'd fall asleep I'd put it on your pillow," Sean replies.

"No…" Wilson gives a little laugh, more out of nervousness than humor. "How did you know I was here? I haven't seen you in what – nine years?"

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"House, it doesn't work that way. I don't want…oh, shut UP!" Cuddy exclaims after House made the comment about a natural conception. "If it were that easy I would do it. It would kill me, but, I'd do it."

A smile slowly crosses House's lips. "No, it wouldn't. After our first kid you'll want ten more of mine. Admit it!"

Cuddy laughs back at House's stupidity and realizes he is only trying to make her feel better (or hoping he is). She wipes her eyes dry of the silent tears that had fallen and slowly stands.

"House, get some rest. You need it."

"Oh, no," House answers as his eyelids blink solidly and then shut completely, "_You'll_ need it."

"Later, House," Cuddy says, but not before she places her right palm on his left cheek and softly caresses it.

She watches House until he drifts off to sleep and realizes she needs a cup of coffee, badly. She leaves his room and heads down the hallway, but then remembers that she hasn't seen Wilson in a few hours so she heads to his room.

As she approaches his door she hears voices, and at first decides to leave and just head to the cafeteria. But when she hears a few of the words she instantly becomes intrigued – albeit a bit guilty of spying – and something glues her to the cold, hard, sterile tile floor.

"I had to leave, Jimmy, you know that, right? But I didn't leave _you_." Sean says. "I was never good enough for them. You know how controlling they can be."

"But you never got a hold of _me_. I wasn't the one that tried to mess up your life," Wilson replies, his voice more angry than child-like.

"Oh, no, neither were Mom and Dad. I messed up pretty well on my own. I didn't want to…" Sean's voice breaks as he hesitates. "I didn't want to take you down with me. I couldn't stop with the coke and it was only getting worse."

Abruptly, Wilson's voice changes from anger to downright evil. "And now?" he asks coldly. "You just pop in thinking…"

Cuddy detects the tone of Wilson's voice and it alarms her, more like frightens her to her very soul. She steps into the room making as much noise as she can, so as not to give the clue that she had been listening to their conversation.

"Well, hello, Wilson!" Cuddy says cheerily, but to her it sounds very forced and unnatural.

When she catches a glimpse of Sean for the first time she tries to hide her shock at his appearance: his blue jeans are extremely faded and dirty with sloppy, unfashionable rips and tears throughout; his t-shirt is faded a pastel blue with an illegible print on the front; the tennis shoes have holes in both of the big toe areas and there are no shoelaces; and there is an awful stench in the air that she quite can't describe, but knows what it is.

"I'm sorry. I didn't know you had a visitor."

"I was just leaving," Sean says as he takes a step towards the door.

"No, please. Don't leave on my account," Cuddy says as she suddenly holds her breath to avoid getting a whiff of Sean's scent.

"Oh, yes, leave," Wilson says snottily.

Sean shakes his head at Cuddy as he silently walks past her and leaves the room. She is at a loss for words, something that has become rather peculiarly common in the hospital the past few days.

"Cuddy, please don't mention this to anyone, especially House," Wilson asks.

She nods her head and stands at his bedside after she checks his vital signs. "How are you feeling? You look pale, James."

"Tired."

"Is there anything I can do for you?"

Wilson nods his head and says, "No, not anymore. My brother just left."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

"Robert?"

Chase looks up from his fork filled to capacity with Eggs Benedict almost to his lips, grumbles a response then takes the mouthful of food.

"I'm sorry I've been such a…kinda…irrational…"

"Little girl?" Chase finishes her sentence for her.

The next thing Chase knows a half eaten biscuit bounces off of his head and lands in his orange juice.

"Twenty points!" she exclaims with her arms in the air as if she's just completed a goal. "Seriously, what do you think House will do when he finds out we're together?"

"He'll harass the crap out of us," he answers as he digs the biscuit out of his orange juice.

"Yeah, I guess that was a stupid question. Hey, what's Foreman up to? He's been kind of quiet lately," Cameron asks as she takes a bite of her bacon strip.

"Yeah. I think he's mad that Cuddy didn't put him in charge."

"You're kidding, right? After the first time he didn't get the clue that he isn't ready for that type of position?"

"Nope, apparently not," he answers.

"Want to ask him to dinner and a movie tonight? Maybe that's what he needs," she suggests.

"Nope."

"No? Why not?"

"Because I have something else in mind for tonight," Chase answers sheepishly.

Cameron does not blush at all.

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

Cuddy practically throws herself on her couch after she left House's room and plops her feet on the corner of the coffee table.

_What am I supposed to do now? I'd have an answer by now if all this mess wasn't going on. Is House right? No, of course not! He can't be. If I'm not ovulating then I can't…_

Her thoughts get the better of her and she closes her eyes, but just for a minute. She still has a few phone calls to make and stuff at home to do and papers to fill out and …


	36. Life Goes On

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX – Life Goes On**

In room 426 of the Balmoral Hotel and Spa in Sedona, Arizona, a woman steps into the bathroom and looks in the mirror. She touches her flushed face with her shaking hands and tries to get control of herself. And yet, although she thinks she looks like a dead goldfish (as her mother once teased her), her natural beauty shines through in the soft lighting of the nightlight.

She thinks of her parents and regrets that they couldn't make the flight out west due to their health, but she has every intention of making it up to tell for her decision to have the wedding here.

She steps out of the bathroom and heads for the bed to the man sleeping on it, softly snoring. As tired as she is, she is happy, excited, hopeful and confident of a life together with this man. She looks down at her left hand and admires the ring on her third finger.

The ring belonged to the man's grandmother who had given it to him on her death bed. After she passed away he'd kept it in a safe place until he could place it on the finger of the woman that he loved and would spend the rest of his life with. And that time was three hours ago, when they'd married on the hillside of the Sedona Hills.

And what made it even more spectacular was that her coworkers were able to join them for the wedding ceremony.

Dr. James Wilson walked her down the isle, and she couldn't have made a better choice. She thought he looked dashing in his tuxedo and felt very proud to be on his arm.

Dr. Eric Foreman was the best man and the whole afternoon he seemed rather tense. She thought at the time maybe it was because of what he'd told her so long ago – that they were not friends – but she honestly no longer held a grudge against him for saying that. What she found out later was that Foreman actually liked her Maid of Honor, Victoria, and made a special effort to introduce the two so neither would be so 'lonely' over the weekend.

"Hey?" A sleepy voice whispers from under the sheets. "What's wrong?"

A wider smile crossed her lips as she slips into bed beside her new husband and wraps her arm around his waist, snuggling up close to him.

"Nothing," she answers. "I love you, Chase."

"I love you, too, Allison."

HOUSE MD HOUSE MD HOUSE MD

A few rooms down the hall in the same hotel, Drs. House and Cuddy are sitting on the edge of a bed. House has a glass of Scotch in one hand while Cuddy has a glass of wine in the other. The sun has just set over the mountains alongside the resort and jazz is softly playing on the radio, a special request from House.

"Do you think it worked this time?" Cuddy asks hopefully.

"Well, if not now, then hopefully three weeks ago when we did the Gurney Shuffle." He hesitates a moment then says, "I hope so. You getting me drunk and then seducing me is SO getting old," House jokes.

"I thought you said you were going to give up drinking? I've told you alcohol makes the sperm sluggish and weak. I don't want my baby to be like that!"

"Hey, look at the source of the sperm…uh, father…uh, me…wait, never mind – that sounded better in my head. And I thought it was _our_ baby," he stutters.

"Well, you are _not_ sluggish and you are not weak, and yes, it will be _our_ baby. But I hope it's a girl," she says as she stands and walks to the bathroom door then turns around. "She'll be just like me – perfect." Cuddy walks into the bathroom but doesn't close the door.

House replies, "Oh, no! Someone shoot me now!"

Cuddy walks out with a stick in her hand and sits down next to him. "Uh, in case you've forgotten, someone already did." As soon as the words were out of her mouth she shuttered at what she's said. "Greg, I'm sorry. That was horrible of me to say."

"Don't worry. That was three months ago. I am expecting to get shot again any day now," House answers.

"Greg, don't joke about that…"

"Well, what does it say?" he asks impatiently as he looks at the stick in her hand but isn't able to correctly read it for the final verdict.

Ignoring his question, she closes her eyes, places the stick in front of him for a better view then asks, "What does it say?"

"Well, it's green…no, wait, blue. It's a BOY! ALL RIGHT! No, uh, wait…it's pink. It's a GIRL! Oh, God help us all!"

Cuddy sighs heavily and opens her eyes, reluctantly looking at the stick for the result that she wants to see.

"Well? What does it say? I can't read that!" he shoots back.

Cuddy smiles broadly, takes a deep breath, looks into his eyes and says…


	37. Epilogue

This final chapter is dedicated to HouseAddiction and BedBugz because they wanted a certain ending to happen, of which you will have to read on to determine what that might be.

I was going to have the story end another way, so I guess I have AtreidesHeir to thank for the 'alternate' ending route of this. THANKS ATREIDESHEIR!

I hope everyone liked the story, because I think this is my favorite LONG story to date.

Thanks for everyone's reviews! Jazzy

**CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN – Epilogue**

A year has passed since that dreadful day that Dr. Gregory House, MD was shot in his office at PPTH. Due to the success of the Ketalar injection, he has fully recovered from his disability of the infarction in his right leg that resulted in more than five years of pain and misery. Although he still walks with a slight limp, he no longer requires any type of pain killer to relieve the every day pain he'd fought to get rid of so long ago.

_How is Dr. House now?_ you ask.

He is still somewhat estranged from his parents but for two very different reasons: his mother never did mention the morphine she found in his bedroom during the three weeks she stayed with him after his recuperation period, and he is just fine with that; and for his father…well, that is an ongoing battle that House has no intention of dredging up in the near future. He figures he still has time to make his father as miserable as he can – or is it the other way around?

_But how IS House now? _you yell at me.

He is still the same narcissistic, belligerent, sarcastic, impossible, uncouth man that we all know and have learned to 'fall in love' with, regardless of him being a P-I-T-A.

Because of all his bad traits and his quirks – in which he is fully aware of – he has at least accomplished one goal in his life he never thought he'd be capable of…

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Dr. James Wilson still puts up with his best friend House, and he has no regrets. Well, sometimes, but only when House does something that REALLY embarrasses him, which is still pretty often.

He has talked with his brother Sean a few times since he'd come to visit Wilson but the distance of nine years has already taken its toll between the two brothers. Rome wasn't built in a day, and neither will the repair of the rift between them.

He settled his divorce with Julie five months ago and has his own apartment now. So, sadly for House, there will be no more nights of the two men sitting around, watching SpongeBob SquarePants, drinking beer and eating Chinese food.

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The morning of September 3rd, Dr. Lisa Cuddy walks into the lobby of PPTH with a little wrapped bundle in her arms. Well, it's not so little. It's an 11 month, 25 day-old, 13 pound butter ball of a baby!

Nurses gather around the two to say hello to Sheryl, who giggles and coos at all the attention she's receiving.

"HEY! Back to work!" booms a voice from the doorway of the hospital. The nurses mumble and fuss and slowly disperse.

"House, you didn't have to do that," Cuddy berates him as she heads to her office and he follows her.

"Yes, I did! She's mine, too!" House whines as he takes off his motorcycle helmet and gives the baby a cute face then makes stupid noises.

"How many times have we gone over this?" she asks as she places Sheryl in the play pen by her desk and hands her a few toys to play with.

"You said I could have her on the weekends. And today is Friday – and Friday is a weekend," he playfully whines.

"Greg! Knock it off. I won't fight over her with you."

House walks toward the pen, reaches down, picks Sheryl up and holds her in his arms. She wraps her little arms around his neck and giggles. "She likes me better; she told me. So you have to let her stay with me," he exclaims.

"Nope, that's why the playpen is in here. And if she says she likes you better it's because of those devilish blue eyes she got from you. We have the spawned the Devil's child!" Cuddy answers, completely joking, smiling playfully and sits down behind her desk.

"Cuddy!" he screams as he presses the baby's head close to his chest to cover her ear, while his hand covers her other ear. "Don't say that around the baby! You were the one that wanted a girl! I can't help it if she is as perfect as me!"

"Fine. You win. Have Chase take up the playpen. Now shut up and take her upstairs," Cuddy says with a wink and a smile. "And don't forget to order the cake and balloons on the way home tonight for her birthday part tomorrow."

"Oh, are you going to be nekkid and pop out of the cake!"

"You wish. Now get out of here!"

House winks at Cuddy and heads upstairs to his own office, where he meets Drs. Chase, Cameron and Foreman.

When Cameron sees House holding Sheryl and heading toward them she meets them at the door and holds it wide for them to enter.

"Sheryl House! How's the most perfect-est little angel in the world!" she boasts as House tries to make a safe escape from Cameron's claws.

"OH, NO! It's The Cam Monster! We have to get away! RUN, little girl, RUN!" House says loudly as he runs into his office and the door closes behind them.

"You know, that is just SO mean! Just because I'm seven months pregnant doesn't mean…you just can't…damnit!" Cameron cries then runs out of the diagnosis room.

Chase looks at Foreman, who glares at him back. "Man, Foreman, if I had known pregnancy was going to cause all that emotional crap I would have gotten a vasectomy!" Chase says, while the two men laugh…

House plays with his daughter in his office…

Wilson sits in the cafeteria flirting with the new nurse of the week and…

Cuddy sits in her office, thankful every day that she has been blessed, or cursed as she sometimes feels, to have Dr. Gregory House in her life.

No one could as for anything more.

THE ENNNNNNNNNNNNDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDDD


End file.
